Journey's Beginning
by That Kid's Lost
Summary: My AU look at Journey's end- what if Jack was hit instead of the Doctor? And what if Bad Wolf came back again... this time, to create instead of destroy? R & R, please! 10/rose, Jack/Donna.
1. Chapter 1

| Hey you guys! So this one is (hopefully) going to be a complete full-fledged fanfic…assuming I get positive reviews and my muse doesn't get eaten. Again. It takes place starting at that scene… you know the scene… where the Doctor sees Rose again for the first time in two (more for him and Martha, but whatever) years… and they kiss passionately…NOT. Of course the freakin' brilliant but possible crazy RTD and co. decided that because it was a Rose/Doctor thing, the moment had to be ruined by the most random Dalek intervention in the history of Doctor Who. A fail so epic that, if it had been someone else, it would've almost been a win. Oh well. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!  3 3 3, ThatKid|

In a situation such as the one he was currently in, the Doctor had decided that 'frustration' didn't quite fit the bill. Everything around him was impossible. Empty London street, cars vacant, no people to be seen- impossible. Stars winking out above their heads, no explosions, no sign that they had ever been there- impossible. And then, of course, there was the sneaking suspicion that suddenly, traveling between universes was both simple and necessary, which was just plain ridiculous. And, finally, the idea he was still struggling to grasp- that Donna, had accidently encountered and spoken to an alternate-universe Rose, one that _knew who he was_- impossible beyond any kind of comprehension. That would've had to have been _his_ Rose, then, the one companion whose loss still twisted like a thorn in his hearts two years later, the girl whose 'forever' he'd finally wanted to believe. And that, frankly, was **impossible.** As a FACT, in capital letters, underlined multiple times. A fact that could not be changed. He'd tried. And yet… he wanted to badly to believe that this FACT was changing, that the universe would let them be, let time stop for the two of them. And if the FACTs were changing, then something in the universe had gone horribly, terrible wrong.

And on top of it all, he could feel the Oncoming Storm inside him twisting, growing, even as he was fighting to stifle its roar of need. But of _what_? There was no Gallifrey, no time-lords to call to his aid. He felt as if he had an infuriating itch, right between his shoulders, an itch that was inescapable and impossible to reach. He twisted to face Donna, knowing how petulant and whiny he was being, but unable to help it.

"What else did Rose say?" he asked for the thousandth time, and his red-haired companion heaved a surprisingly patient sigh. She seemed like she was about to open her mouth to reply, and then her focus shifted to a point vaguely behind him before she met his gaze again. Now however, her eyes held something new and decidedly un-Donna-like. Her features softened and her hazel eyes seemed… expectant, almost.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?"

He studied, for a moment, her expression. Even for the sometimes-thoughtless Donna, that was a cruel Joke. Of all people, she had to know that the hole Rose had left was stubbornly unfillable. _Maybe it's not a joke, _he thought suddenly, but that would be… an impossibility. And yet, he couldn't resist that sudden urge to spin around- which brought a figure, distant but oh-so-recognizable into view. He feared that his mouth had fallen open.

It _was_ Rose. Older, but still her. Could it be that she had always been so beautiful? Had her smile always been so radiant, lighting up her surroundings like that? And had her blonde hair always caught the light, caught and reflected it, framing those open- doe-brown eyes so gloriously? His feet stumbled forward of their own accord, almost exactly at the moment she began to run toward him, and as his feet pounded on the pavement, his face split into a sudden grin that, in light of the universe's current predicament, was very out of place.

"EXTERMMINATE!" Their heads turned simultaneously to see the one sight he never expected to see- a Dalek. It fired and he ried to leap out of the way, but something-some**one**- shouldered him out of the way and blew its headpiece off. He heard Rose's gasp as he identified Jack, and glanced up to see her trip, only a foot or so away. It was too simple to catch her and draw her into his arms, feeling the warmth of her berath as she exhaled softly, the look of surprise and joy in her eyes enough to speed his heartrates. He noticed that her hands gripped his shoulders, and the fact that her touch suddenly warmed him was new and now at all unpleasant. Donna was behind him, kneeling beside the now-fallen and seemingly dead Jack. "Doctor!" He glanced down at her. "He'll be fine," he assured- "He's DEAD!" was her frantic reply- and then the Captain spluttered to life. He fixed his killer blue eyes on the bewildered Donna, grinned, and used his all-purpose line…

"Cap's Jack Harkess… and _who_ are _you_?" Donna managed to blurt her name before the Doctor, for what felt like the millionth time, said irritatedly, " **Jack, **don't."

"I don't mind," Donna assured as she helped him up. "

"Nobody," the Doctor sighed, "ever quite manages to, I know."


	2. Chapter 2

| We all thought it, people. Don't deny it. ;) Okay, second installment. Enjoy! And reviews are luff! I'm not really exactly following JE's plot concerning the reality bomb business, but whatever. It was either that or eliminate all the rose/ten and jack/donna, which would've just killed the story…so yeah. |

"Nice to meet you, Donna," the Captain grinned, dusting off his jacket before looking back up toward them. "And, Rose, do us a favor?" She stared at him. "…yeah?"

"Drop the stupid gun and kiss him already, please," he said, his tone exasperated and playful. And although she couldn't seem to register what had been said, the Doctor leaned forward and kissed her gently, gun and all.

The kiss barely lasted a moment, the briefest of contact, which he ended almost immediately. "Happy?" he practically growled, and then yelped and stumbled back, holding his now stinging left cheek. Rose looked at once appalled and satisfied, arms crossed, and Jack just laughed. "Frankly, Doctor, no. That was _quite _disappointing." Donna stifled her own laughter, and Rose finally caught up, adding her own opinion: "And rude." The Doctor felt as if the table had been very unfairly turned.

"…couldn't expect you to know, thought…It's a man's business," the Captain was saying.

"What is?"

"_Kissing_," Jack replied with a devilish grin. "Watch the master." And before anyone could react, he'd grabbed Donna possessively around the waist with one arm, his opposite hand cupping her cheek, and smashed his lips unceremoniously against hers in a heated kiss. He let her go after a few prolonged moments of one-way passion, and when he did, Donna stumbled away from him, looking surprised and mildly pleased- not to mention a bit disgusted. "Blimey," she breathed, shaking her auburn hair out.

"That was more along the lines of what I…" the end of the other man's sentence was cut off as Donna's palm connected with his cheek, and the Doctor, even given the trouble he felt he was in, couldn't help but grin. _Good old Donna. Jack's needed that slap for too long._ He opened his mouth to say a well deserved I-told-you-so, but Rose's voice beside him made him freeze.

"In case you've all forgotten, she reminded them with a new sternness to her voice, "We've kinda got a problem here."

The TARDIS gave a happy hum when the Doctor stepped inside, Rose not far behind him as she explained all she knew.

"Something out there's got to buildin' somethin' big. A device supposed to destroy everythin' in existence." He nodded, trying his best to ignore Donna and Jack as they argued in the corner ( "it was a demonstration!" "…I don't care, it was rude, you arrogant …" "Now that's just uncalled for…") as he flipped a switch and gazed at the screen of Gallifreyan symbols before him. "A reality bomb," he inferred flatly. "Yeah," she agreed. "Now, us at Torchwood 'ave been watching this universe's timeline, so we saw something coming. It looks like… it looks like this universe just sort of stops existing at a certain point. As in a few hours from now. But the reality bomb doesn't end up working, because something bigger happens…" he interrupted, now barely paying attention to the screen but staring fixedly at it despite that, "_Bigger_ than a reality bomb?"

"Initially it seemed like a fluke," she agreed, "but it's real, as real as you an' me, and _someone_ had to warn you…" he felt his stomach drop in disappointment. _Idiot. You thought she'd come back for you._ Although, in his defense, the last words he'd ever heard her say to him were a pretty blatant, straightforward proclomation of love. _Now is not the time. Even she can see that, this isn't about you and her, it's about saving reality…and you were the one that messed the whole thing up to begin with. Stalling like an idiot. Regretting it at the last moment._ He pulled a lever down too quickly, and the entire machine shuddered around them and lurched beneath their feet. Rose grabbed a support beam to steady herself, and he righted himself and reached for a dial.

"Where are we going?" Donna asked, suddenly beside him. He glanced at her and felt relief flood him for a brief moment. Donna was simple and to-the-point. He knew where she stood, even as the rest of the world seemed to be indescisive. He pointed at a location on the screen. "See that? That's what's giving off the most energy right now. Enormous amounts of energy, which is probably being used," he gazed pointedly over his shoulder at Rose, "to create a reality bomb. Kind of like a huge, inter-dimensional black hole." Donna shook her head. Jack leaned against another support beam, seemingly unbothered. "Who would want to do somethin' like that? And why?" He shrugged. "I don't know. But we're going to find out."

"What's the plan, Doc?"

"Jack, you know I don't plan. I just do. We're going up there, we're going to ask whoever's in charge what they're doing and why they're doing it… and then we're going to stop them."

Jack let out a short laugh. "Man of action, that's you." The Doctor grunted in response. "There are time and gravity shields all around it, though, so it'll be a few minutes until we're in the clear and able to travel at our normal speed."

Rose stayed silent.

"I'm gonna go make some tea, then," Donna announced. Jack followed her out of the console room, sauntering around as if he owned the ground he walked on. "I'd love a cuppa tea." Over his shoulder he called out, "Guess there's no talking you out of this, huh? Resistance is futile!"

"Bit more dramatic if you say it that way, but yeah."

He was alone in the console room, and a mess. He was angry at nothing in particular, frustrated with the impossible situation he was faced with, and hating himself for not being able to get it together and do the right thing. Actually, figuring out the right thing to do would have to come first. He rubbed his eyes wearily.

And then he remembered that Rose was standing a few feet away, still leaning passively against a support beam, watching him with those milky brown eyes and making everything that much more complicated. He was sure that everyone in the TARDIS, probably including the TARDIS, knew he loved Rose Tyler. But none of them seemed to understand that it was too complicated. He couldn't say it. He couldn't admit it. He couldn't act on it. He couldn't let anyone else act on it. It was too dangerous a feeling, love, to aknowledge if you were constantly facing death and worse.

And of course Donna with her tea, and Jack following her around like a puppy… all that left him alone in that console room, frustrated, and trying to understand this new, suddenly wilted Rose.

For a few minutes that felt like forever, neither of them spoke, him leaning over the console, eyes squeezed shut, and her standing against the beam, arms crossed, watching him inertly. Her voice startled him when she broke the silence that cloaked the room.

"Can I ask you something?" He smiled but didn't open his eyes. It was a joyless smile. He felt dead inside. "You just did." She didn't reply. He opened his eyes and turned his head to her, seeing a look of cold indifference in her eyes that he'd never seen before, not on anybody.

"Were you ever actually gonna say it?" The sadness in her voice was hoarse, like it'd been buried deep for too long. For two years. It gave him a sharp pang to see her so different, so unlike the Rose he remembered. "Rose," he started to say, but she waved him away. "Or was that just a joke? Were _we_ just a joke?" He had the feeling she wasn't done yet, so he just waited, feeling like the most pitiful excuse for a time lord in existence. "A time lord and a human, ha-ha. But you'd never actually… it was never even…" she looked away, blinking hard, and he stared at her. "…Rose," he said, but this time it wasn't really even the beginning of a sentence. He didn't know what to do, or what to say, or how to fix the mess he'd made. All he knew was that Rose had gotten caught up in it and he was to blame.

"Look, jus' say it. Just say it was all a game. So I can fix this mess, go home. Move on." But I don't want you to move on, he wanted to say. I'm selfish and I need you. He looked down at his feet and rocked back on his heels, shoving his hands in his pocket, feeling like a little boy who'd gotten caught playing ball in the house. "Wasn't a game, " he murmured. "Or a joke. We can't… it wouldn't…"

She shrugged, but still couldn't look at him. "Forget it."

_It's not that easy, Rose. I know better than anyone that you can't just erase someone out of your life. And I can't forget it. Can't forget you. _

He moved close to her and watched as she tried in vain not to let the tears escape, then reached out and brushed them away with the tips of his fingers. He had done this. He had made her cry.

She sank into his arms as he held her, feeling her head settle easily against his chest, and her shoulders tremble with barely controlled tears. It felt right and yet so wrong to be holding her then, knowing she probably only wanted to be far, far away from him, knowing that she was most likely wishing she'd never met him, that she'd died in the explosion all those years ago. Knowing that he couldn't help at all. "I'm sorry," he said into her hair, "Honest. I am."

And a beep signified that they were full speed once again, hurtling towards certain death.


	3. Chapter 3

**Crash!**

"_Unrecognizable hardware! Alert!"_

"Oh, great. That's just… that's just wonderful."

"What? What is it?"

"Doctor, that's a Dalek. That was a Dalek's voice, wasn't it?"

"Should've known they'd be behind this… the universe's omnipresent pests. And of course I'm pest control."

He pulled his overcoat on and fingered the metal of his sonic screwdriver in one pocket, the other hand itching to feel Rose twine her fingers with his. She stayed still, standing off to the side. Jack glanced at him. "Are we going or what?"

"Hold on."

"Hey! Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on? What's a Dalek, for God's sake?" Donna's yells didn't faze anybody, though Jack gave her an interested look. "You'll find out, unfortunately."

_What to do… what to do…_ he didn't want to get Donna involved. Rose, he knew, would follow him anyway, with or without his permission. And Jack was a good person to have at his side, especially since both of them had dealt with Daleks before. But Donna… there'd be no stopping her, either. _Why do I always pick the stubborn ones?_ He asked himself, only half-joking.

"Nobody speak. Just follow me. And if one of them says 'exterminate' for God's sakes, _duck._"

And with that, he pushed open the door of the TARDIS and plastered a look of what he hoped resembled innocent nonchalance. He buried his hands in his pockets and looked around, not at anything in particular, pretending not to notice the five or six Daleks clustered around them, but taking in every detail. The only escape would be around the back of the TARDIS, and any one of them would be fried before they even attempted it. He'd have to confuse them verbally. Lucky for him, this regeneration's strong suit was, well, _talking_. "Oh my God," he heard behind him, and then a patient "Donna, _shhhh_."

"_Identify yourself!_"

He pretended he'd only just noticed them, fixed his eyes on the one that had spoken and grinned. "Oh, hello! Didn't notice you there."

"_You will identify yourself and state your purpose!_"

"Oh. Will I, then? I'm the Doctor." He paused to let that sink in, knowing that whatever kind of faint fear the Daleks could feel, they were feeling now. "And I'm here to speak to your boss."

"_You will come with us._"

"Sorry, I'm not… not exactly in park, you see," he gestured to the TARDIS. "Don't want to leave her alone. This outfit just screams 'break my windows!', you know?"

"_You will come with us!"_

"Yeah? Or what, exactly?" He felt Donna shift at his side, and Jack reach in his trench coat for something. Most likely a gun. The Doctor shook his head almost imperceptibly, and Jack relaxed. Slightly.

"_Or they will be exterminated!_"

"Yeah. Well. Could've guessed that. Come on then, " he said to his companions. Jack pulled a gun and he heaved a frustrated sigh. "Not that…"

"_Exterminate them!_"

"_Exterminate! Exterminate!_"

"Oi! Oi, Daleks, over here!" And Mickey, of all people, appeared behind the cluster of aliens, waving a huge, clunky, totally out-of-date vaporizer. Behind him was a familiar figure, a blonde woman that the Doctor had hoped he'd never have to see again. "Jackie," he groaned. "Mickey, put the gun down."

"I'm savin' you!" Rose came suddenly to life.

"I _told_ you not to follow me! I_ told_ you to let me do this alone!"

" Yeah, an' I told _you_ that I wasn't gonna let you go into this by yourself!"

"MICKEY THE IDIOT, DROP THE GUN."

Mickey lowered the gun, but didn't take his eyes off Rose.

"Mum!"

"Rose!"

"What are you **doing** here?"

"Rose, quiet." Rose clamped her mouth shut and glared at her mother. Jackie opened her mouth to say more, but the Doctor stopped her before she could begin. "Jackie, really, now's not the time. Or the place. But definitely, definitely not the time." And she glared at _him_. The nerve.

"_Identify yourselves!_"

Mickey lifted the gun and fired a wild shot.

"Run!" And the Doctor could only watch as everyone just sort of… scattered. The Daleks shot, but missed everything. Jack grabbed Donna and slipped away behind the TARDIS. Mickey ran back the way he came, and Jackie ran after him, leaving the Doctor and Rose standing where they'd been before all hell had broken loose. Of course. The Daleks looked at them. And then,

"_Exterminate!_" Rose ducked. The Doctor grabbed her around the waist and pulled her behind the TARDIS, and the Dalek's shots hit the force field around the ship. "Run," he whispered to her, and she took his hand.

They ran.

He ducked behind a metal apparatus that was large enough, against the wall, to hide them both. Luckily, they were in the corner of some room, so from the side they were just as inconspicuous. As long as they didn't move. Rose was stuffed in beside him, knees to her chest, staring at him. "What now?" This was farmiliar. Him and Rose, hiding, running away. Running away from time and what it meant. He made himself meet her gaze. "Now, Rose Tyler, we wait."

They sat for minutes, just gazing at each other, inches away from touching, breathing sharply, anticipating the worst as Dalek after Dalek seemed to pass the room. "Your crazy boyfriend has gotten crazier," he observed finally, smiling a little. She rolled her eyes at him. "He's not my boyfriend," she insisted quietly.

"Oh?" Something changed then, something in the air. She blushed slightly and looked down at her hands. "I mean, he knows… whatever we had, it was a long time ago." He nodded, understanding. _Poor Mickey. She's one hell of a woman to love. _His consciousness accused him. _You would know._ He felt like he should fill the silence, but he couldn't think what to say. He was saved by the sound of a Dalek entering the room. "Stay very still," he murmured to her. They locked gazes again, brown to brown. "_Search this room._"

"Can't they sense life?"

"Don't think so. Not these. Shhhh."

Minutes passed. Then, "_Report all clear._" And they were alone again. Rose shifted.

"What if the others…"

"They're fine."

"But they could've been killed."

"Not all of them."

"Well, not Jack."

"No, they wouldn't kill the others. Then they'd have no leverage against me."

"Oh." He reached out and brushed her cheek with his hand, not really sure of the reason why, but unable to stop himself. "It's okay," he breathed. It was a lie.  
"I'm not scared," she replied. "Not for me. I'm scared for Mickey and my mum. Scared that they won't get out alive." He could see in her eyes that this was the truth.

"We'll get them, together. You and me. We'll get them out of here just fine. I promise." She nodded and looked down again, breaking the eye contact. He retracted his hand.

"_Reveal yourself._"

His breath caught in his throat, and then he tried to relax. "Stay still," he advised her, and then he stood up. "_You will come with us." _He shrugged. "I suppose I must." Behind him, Rose stood up, despite his warning. He stared at her incredulously as she stepped up and took his hand. "We'll get out of this," she repeated, "together."

He couldn't help but smile as they were led away.


	4. Chapter 4

| I've been neglecting the donna/jack… sorry! So sorry! Anyway, here's a chapter for all you d/j fans. And it's not just shameless fluff, so don't skip it! ;) enjoy, as always!|

Donna did not like Jack Harkness.

Well, maybe a little.

For saving her life, maybe. And that kiss… never mind.

He didn't let go of her hand as they ran, whether because he thought she'd fall behind or because he simply liked holding her hand, she wasn't sure. But from what she'd seen she was leaning towards the latter. "Where are we going?" He shrugged as they rounded a corner. "I don't know. Away." For a while she just concentrated on trying to understand their situation. The Daleks were clearly some kind of alien race. Robot race. Either way, they were dangerous. "_And if one says 'exterminate', for God's sakes, duck._" She decided to take that to heart. Duck. At least she had one direction to follow besides the one she was currently being dragged in.

Jack skidded to a halt and let go of her hand, and Donna had to squash the not-so-tiny feeling of disappointment in her chest. No. She refused to fall for this man, who had no boundaries and couldn't die and had the most beautiful blue eyes and… stop. Slow down. "There," he pointed to a vent above them with his gun, and then shot it open with a bang that made Donna flinch. "Won't they hear that?"

"Yeah, probably. But we'll be long gone by the time they get here. Ladies first," he said, and she didn't have time to react as he lifted her seemingly without effort into the vent. She crawled forward a few feet before she heard him clamber in behind her. "Left," he instructed, and she nodded over her shoulder. "But where are we going?"

"I don't _know_, Donna. Kinda a new situation for me, too."

"Kind of?"

"Long story."

She kept crawling, turning left as instructed, and then paused. "All I see is more vents. They split off a bit further down. Just… I can't really tell. All shadows and gray." Behind her, Jack laughed quietly to himself. "My view could be worse," he began. She silenced him with a sharp look. "Oi! Concentrate!"

"Okay. When we get there, turn left again."

"Won't that take us in a circle?"

"Not until we take another left, which we won't."

She shrugged and crawled forward, the metal cool beneath her palms. It smelled faintly of grease and oil, but the vents themselves were dry and remarkably clean. Where the passage split off, she hesitated. He'd told her to go left, but to the right there was a kind of opening. An air vent. She could probably see through it. She turned right. "Hey! I said left!"

"Shhhh," she chided him. "Look." Inside the room, looking down, she could see what looked like a very complicated, metal lawnmower. And hidden behind it, a man in a brown pinstripe suit, and a blonde girl. "Hey, it's the Doc. Hey! Hey…" Donna clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shhhh! Look!" As they watched, the Doctor reached out to Rose- and then a Dalek appeared in the doorway. "Oh no," Donna moaned. "That's just wizard. That's just…. what do we do?"

"We keep moving," Jack replied. "Keep right."

After a few more minutes of vents that showed empty rooms of the same design, Donna sat as best she could, leaning against the wall of the vent. She sighed. Trust that stupid, hotheaded spaceman to get himself- and her- into this mess. And now she had to get him out of it. Alive. Jack settled into a sitting position, at least as close as he could get, considering the vent was a bit small for him, beside her, and watched her for a moment. She couldn't look at him. She was afraid he might get the idea that she was interested, which she definitely wasn't.

Not really.

"Okay. So… we have to get out of the vents safely… navigate a ship filled with Daleks… find the Doctor, Rose, and probably Mickey and Jackie, too. And then we have to save reality. And get out before this place explodes."

She gave him a firm look. "One thing at a time."

"Yeah. First thing, find loverboy."

_He's hopeless. Really, really hopeless. He's like a thirteen-year-old trapped in a man's body._

"Actually, first thing, get out of the vents." He nodded slightly. "Touche', my ginger friend."

"Is there something wrong with bein' ginger, then, you pigheaded.." He cut her off, laughing at her sudden flare of indignation. "Not at all! Not at all. I love me the ginger ladies." She slapped his shoulder. "Quit it. This is serious."

Their eyes met in a sudden, electric rush, and she found she couldn't look away. His eyes were so blue that for a moment she forgot anything else existed but them. The moment was shattered as she heard crashing further down the passage. And then, voices that sounded human.

"Jack," she asked cautiously, "Daleks… they don't need oxygen, do they?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Probably not."

"So how come we can breathe?" His eyes widened in realization and he ran a hand through his dark hair. "Oh."

"You don't suppose they built this place themselves?" He considered this for a moment. "Never saw them do any real work before, no. But maybe…"

"This place didn't just appear," she interrupted, "_Some_one had to build it. Someone who needed oxygen. Someone who couldn't be let go, because this place had to be a secret."

"Humans?" She shrugged, but froze at the sound of voices further down the passage. Where the crashes had come from. They exchanged glances, and then they were staring out through a vent at a room, a huge room, filled with people. People of Earth.

"Oh my God," she murmured, turning to look at the Captain. She found that he was already gazing intently at her, focusing entirely on _her_ rather than the development they'd just uncovered. "Stay very still," he said then.

"Why?" She stared back, trying to decipher the look in his eyes.

"Cause I'm… I'm gonna kiss you."

_It's not like you can go anywhere._

_You could slap him again._

_I suppose._

But she couldn't seem to make herself move, save to close her eyes as he leaned toward her and pressed his lips softly against hers, one hand cupping her cheek like before. This time, though, the kiss was gentle through and through. And the tendrils of warmth passed through both of them, so that neither could think of a reason why it had taken them this long to see that this, this was what the fuss was about. Or at least that was the impression Donna had.

His lips left hers but they stayed inches apart, so close that she could feel his breath on her skin.

And she could still feel that kiss like fire coursing through her, filling her with the kind of feeling she'd only dreamed of, heard of, but never believed she would feel. "There, see? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

As much as she enjoyed being so close to him, his cockiness was infuriating. She grinned at him.

"I dunno. Wasn't _bad,_ not _really_… but I'm sure that's the best you can…" the rest of her sentence was cut off by another kiss, this one more insistent, rendering her senseless and yet so alive to his touch, so much so that she only noticed that the vent had bent and broken beneath their combined weight once they were falling.

Falling.

Falling, faster and faster and suddenly the ground below them was rushing toward their faces. _This is how I'll die? Faceplanting in some bloody alien spaceship?_

She had barely enough time to steal another glance at Jack before suddenly, there was impact.


	5. Chapter 5

The doors slid closed behind the last retreating Dalek, leaving them in a room that seemed empty. A large room, but a quiet one. "This is appropriately eerie," the Doctor commented, and Rose nodded to him, looking around. "We're kinda stuck, huh?" He grimaced. "Don't say it like that."

"Like what?"  
"Like it's a bad thing."  
"Being stuck isn't a good thing." He shrugged. "Could be worse," he asserted, glancing at the empty steel walls and floor, anywhere not to meet her gaze, "Could be alone." Out of the corner of his eyes he saw her crack a small smile. "'S _cold_," she observed after a moment. And it was chilly, at least, for a human. His body temperature was naturally higher than hers, so he didn't seem to notice all that much. Everything seemed 'cold' to him by comparison. His blood was just below boiling, after all. "Yes it is. Why do you suppose…" he walked to a wall and ran a hand over it. Ice cold to him, which meant if Rose touched it, she'd find it cold as well.

"I think we're below the generator," she thought out loud. "I think the heat rises. Like satellite five? An' that means of course it's cold down here. The cold keeps us awake." He nodded. "But why do they want us awake?"

"So they can play mind games, I guess." They both laughed joylessly. Daleks didn't play games. He scanned the wall with the sonic screwdriver, finding it four inches of heavy steel, and she kneeled beside him, running a finger along the seam where the wall met the floor. He watched her as she produced a now-slick finger, and the smell was obvious. "Chloride. That's weird…"

"It's gotta be some kind of byproduct or somethin'. Somethin' the generator's making along with power." He was struck again by how brilliant she was, his Rose. Beyond compare. He smiled slightly. "That's weird, though, because when chloride is produced, so are a number of toxic gases. And the Daleks would survive that easily, they don't respirate. So why are we not dead?" She contemplated this for a moment, still kneeling, brow furrowed in thought. _She really is adorable when she does that,_ he thought as she poked her tongue in her cheek.

"Maybe they planned this."  
"I doubt it. But maybe."  
"Or maybe they have some sort of… workforce?" Their eyes met and a realization passed between them.

"Whatever built this place, whatever's building the bomb- it needs the same or close to the same combination of nitrogen, oxygen and… the same basic gases of the Earth's atmosphere."

"They're so hospitable," she joked.

"They have a human workforce," he said to nobody in particular.

"So… what?" Before he could answer, a screen appeared before them on the wall and a face that the Doctor had never, not in a million years thought he would see again appeared on it.

"Davros," he breathed, stepping back to see the screen better. Rose stood beside him, watching him, trying to decide how to react. The figure on the screen was somewhat humanoid, but any kind of humanity it had possessed had been washed away by the brutalities of time. It was thoroughly wrinkled, and where there would be eyes were black sockets as if the eyes had skinned over, no longer needed. It smiled dismally, showing yellow, faintly pointed teeth. "We meet again, Doctor," it spoke and its voice was like gravel. The Doctor had looked pale for a second, but regained his composure quickly enough.

"What are you doing, threatening to destroy everything- and I mean _everything_ in existence?" Even Rose had to flinch slightly at the harshness in his tone and the sudden darkness in his eyes. Davros merely let out a short, low laugh- if it could really be called a laugh- and replied, "What are you doing, thinking you can stop me?" The Doctor's jaw clenched and Rose stood, retreating behind him as he clenched his fists. "I _will_ stop you, if you don't stop yourself," he corrected through gritted teeth. "You can't just take everything away. There are people down there, on Earth, and on _every single other populated world and planet and solar system in existence_, and you can't just **kill them all** because you _feel_ like it." Rose's mind was whirling. The possibilities of what Davros was planning to do, even to her untrained mind, were beginning to look increasingly serious. Everything. Everyone. All life but the Daleks and Davros and whoever was on the ship, whoever he let live. Dead. Gone. But what would be left?

"I can and I will," Davros replied thinly, looking unbothered by the man's anger. "Doctor," she asked slowly, noticing how his gaze softened when he looked at her, "If he sets off the reality bomb, what'll be left?" Davros answered for him. "Space. Gloriously empty space, a clean slate for all reality, and upon that slate I will draw my kingdom." The Doctor stared at her for a few prolonged moments, then glared up at Davros, the look on his face suggesting that his mind was working furiously, calculating. "The amount of energy left after you set off that bomb would be tremendous. Bigger than you can fathom, I know that for sure because _I_ can't even fathom it, and," he added under his breath, "_I'm_ brilliant. So huge, so powerful that you would have most of it left over after your little kingdom is made, even if it takes up more mass than everything in existence now. And unfettered energy, that much of it is not a good thing to have hanging around. Your logic," he stated flatly, but with a triumphant gleam in his brown eyes, "Is quite flawed." Davros grinned again.

"No. Because I will feed off of that energy and become all-powerful. Strong and immortal and free of anything and everything that I feel is unnecessary. I will become God." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair and paced for a few moments as Rose watched him, trying to decide whether she should be scared or impressed. Then, finally, "Nobody deserves that kind of power, Davros. Especially not you." Davros shot back at him smoothly, "Is that why you reject it?" and Rose's attention shifted back to the Doctor as he paled. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.

"Yes, you do." Davros seemed to turn his head more in Rose's direction, or at least she got the idea that he was addressing her. She straightened a bit. "You know him best of all his companions, but you do not know what kind of power he holds within him. The kind of energy that would be released is nothing compared to the kind of energy he holds in his hands. The kind of energy that could shape existence effortlessly, if he wished." _Energy enough to make people fall in love?_ She wondered, _Energy enough to create a situation that could easily get rid of me? Energy that could open another rift so that he could come and get me back, or at least say a proper goodbye?_ Her stomach sank as she began to doubt him, realizing how little of him she truly knew. The Doctor closed his eyes as if in pain, tensed, then relaxed. He wouldn't look at her. "As I said, nobody deserves that kind of power. Or the…" he trailed off and Davros laughed slowly. "The what? The pain? It pains you so because you could use it. You could change everything, and you are too much of a coward to use what you possess. And I will take it from you, and become ever stronger."

"That's right," the Doctor blinked sadly. "I'm a coward, Davros. So many things in my lifetime I could've changed, but I didn't, because it would be _wrong_ to do so, no matter how badly I wanted to. I let life live itself out even though it was infinitely painful for me, because changing it would be changing the rules, and nobody's meant to do that." Davros was silent for barely a heartbeat. "But you changed the rules, once. You're not the pure, heroic man you wish us to believe."

"Once?" Rose had finally regained her ability to speak. He finally looked at her, and the sadness in his eyes seemed as if it was never ending. He managed a smile, though she could see right through it. "Yes. I should not have been able to call to you, to call you to Dalig Ulf Stranden, but I… I did it anyway. To say goodbye." She shook her head, tears threatening as she recalled that beach. "But then you could've just… popped in and gotten me, yeah? Why'd you have to leave me?" His sadness seemed to just increase as he looked at her, as if pained by her disbelief. "Because, Rose, I had already changed too much. And taking you back would've altered the future, and…" She cut him off. "And that would've been so bad?" He sighed and closed his eyes. "You can't possibly understand. It might've meant you would've just plain died, Rose, would you have liked that?" And without waiting for her to answer, he turned back to the screen.

"That is beside the point, Davros. I will do everything in my power to stop you."

"You will fail."

"Maybe. But I've never given up yet, so that's gotta stand for something."

The screen winked out and they were left in the cold, unforgiving metal room, both suddenly weary. He turned to her with a look of resignation etched into his features, his eyes still sad, but no longer cold and dark. "You really have no idea," he smiled weakly, "how much I love you, do you?"


	6. Chapter 6

Rose wasn't sure how to react. Her body felt… funny, that was the only word for it. Hot and cold at the same time, her palms sweaty all of a sudden, her heart fluttering in her chest as she stared unblinkingly at the Doctor. She felt she should say something, but she couldn't make her mouth move, needless to say think of words for it to form. He gazed evenly back at her, and for the longest time she wondered if he was going to come toward her, kiss her, or turn away like he hadn't just dropped that colossal sentence, like nothing was wrong. He didn't seem as if he was thinking about it, actually. Luckily for her, the door opened and two more people appeared.

Jackie rushed over to Rose and hugged her close, and Mickey stood a few yards away, hands in his pockets, looking awkwardly at the ground as the Daleks left again. Before Rose could stop her, Jackie was at the Doctor, and then there was a slap, and the Doctor, for the second time in twentyfour hours, stumbled away, his cheek stinging. "Oi! Whatwasthatfor?" Jackie glared at him. "Everythin'!" Rose stole a glance at Mickey, who she found was staring at her. He looked down again. "Look," she interrupted finally, "We're kind of in a situation, yeah? We have to do something." It was silent for a moment.

"She's right," the Doctor sighed, glancing at her with the tiniest of smiles, "We need to find Jack and Donna." As if on cue, the doors re-opened and two blank-faced men shoved the last two of their party into the room. Jack swung a fist, missed, and cursed at them, while Donna rubbed her wrist absently. The doors reclosed.

"Well. Now that we're all here…"  
"Do you have any _idea_ what you put her through…?"  
"We really need to…"  
"Hey, loverboy, guess what we found…?"

"OI! EVERYBODY SHUT UP A MINUTE!" Donna stood in the middle of the now-silent room, surrounded by surprised but quiet people. "Look, there are other people here. But some of them… most of them are, I dunno, brainwashed." The Doctor rubbed his eyes and sighed. "That just made this a lot more complicated."

"How'dyou mean? Why can't we just get out of here?"  
Jack stared at Jackie, then said, "Look, I don't know what you're doing here, but we're in the business of saving all reality. We can't just leave because there are people here who would die, besides the fact that if the Daleks succeed, all of reality- EVERYTHING- will be gone. So either way, you'd die unless we get this done." She was shocked into silence. Mickey shook his head. "This is insane"

"You could've stayed home," Rose pointed out.

"Right! Now, let's get outta here! Jack, you still got that gun?" The other man produced the weapon, which the Doctor took and waved his sonic screwdriver over. "There. That….should do it." Jack took the gun back and leveled it at the wall in front of them. "Alright everyone, get ready to run. Again. The lift is right across the hall, so it's a short sprint." Jack blasted an irregular hole in the wall and then, the six of them powered onward, leaping through the gap and sprinting across the hall, dodging shocked Daleks and slamming the door shut behind them. There was no lift car. Just a lift. "Damn," Jack muttered. "_Exterminate!_"

"Argh! They can levitate, I forgot! Um…" There was a groan as the door was worked on. "Doctor, hurry!" Jackie urged. Rose glanced up and happened to notice a glowing button on the wall a few feet above her. "Look!" She jumped up to try and reach it, but didn't quite manage. The Doctor was able to slam his fist on it while on his toes, and then the door opened and they were face to face with three Daleks. "Oh," he said lamely, and slammed the button again. One of the Daleks managed to get something stuck beneath the wall and they took turns trying to shoot underneath, through the inch-high gap. "Oops," Rose murmured, looking around. Donna said, "Wait, what's this?" And there was the sound of a switch being switched. The ground beneath them disappeared and they fell a few inches before a platform appeared and immediately sped straight up.

"Ahh!" Jack wobbled at the edge and Mickey reached to steady him, but doing so meant that he elbowed Donna, who had to grab onto Rose, and they teetered on the opposite side. The Doctor grabbed at them and pulled them closer to the middle, hissing, "Nobody move!" And a few moments later, the platform slowed and stopped. A door opened to another Dalek, but behind it there seemed to be a chair that they were seeing the back of.

"_Exterminate!_" Davaros turned to see them, and stopped the Dalek cold with one outsetretched, shaking, claw-like hand. "Doctor," he smiled, "Please, come in." It was absurd, Rose thought. As if they were going to some dinner party. He shoved his hands back into his pockets and stepped forward, and she followed him, though he turned and gave her a slight shake of his head. When she followed, so did Jack and Donna. Mickey stood back against the wall, and Jackie, after a glance, stayed by him. "Together," Rose reminded him, and he looked grateful for her hand when she slipped her fingers between his and squeezed before letting go.

"I'm impressed," Davros admitted with another sickening smile. "You managed to make it all the way here." Nobody answered him. "It's too bad, really, that I'll have to kill you. Step back a bit, will you?" Nobody moved. It seemed as if they were frozen. Rose knew that she, at least, couldn't make her legs move. What had she gotten into now? She glanced at the Doctor and decided it didn't matter. Davros shrugged and pressed a button on the chair that made some sort of force-field bubble around him, sending shocks through the four of them that had Rose and Donna stumbling back, the Doctor fighting it, and Jack's hand moving swiftly to his trench coat. "Leave them alone, Davros," he snarled, and Davros laughed. With another press of the button, the two men had also been batted back a few feet. "All you had to do was step a few feet away," the villain smirked. "It's not that hard, see?" He pressed another button, and Rose saw a tube of light extend up and down below her, finding that her feet no longer touched the ground. Her heart pounding, she tried to move, but only succeeded in moving her head so that she could see the others, except the Doctor, in the same state. He stared at them and then turned back to Davros, pulling the sonic screwdriver. "Put them down," he hissed, and Davros just laughed. "Oh please, Doctor. That isn't a weapon, it's a tool." Rose resisted the urge (it didn't matter, she couldn't make her mouth move anyway) to yell that Davros was a tool.

"Put them down and stop this operation /now/, Davros."  
"Or what?" he seemed morbidly interested. "I can kill them all with a button, but I'll do it one by one if you don't do what I say." The timelord narrowed his brown eyes and furrowed his brows. "I don't believe you." Rose saw out of the corner of her eye, a streak of light from the ceiling above Donna that traveled down the tube. There was a flash of light and a cry of pain, and Donna was again immobilized. The pain was obvious in her desperate hazel eyes. Rose felt sick. "Stop! Stop, I'll…"

"Do what I want, Doctor?" There was a silence, and then the Doctor pocketed the sonic screwdriver. "Never."

"Oh, but you will."  
"Yeah, and why's that?"  
"Because I will kill them, Doctor, one by one until you agree to do as I ask. And I will start," he smiled slightly, pointing with a claw-like hand, "With /her/." With a jolt of too-real fear, Rose realized he was pointing to /her/. The Doctor turned his head to see where Davros was pointing, and the look that came over his face was one of desperate anger. He turned his back again. "No, Davros. Leave her out of this."

"I'm not too high and mighty to avoid killing innocents, if its what gets me your services."

"Don't. Don't make me do this, Davros, I'm warning you, /don't/."

There was a flash of light, light all around her, in her, probing at her skin and pain like she'd never felt before, a prickling pain all over and a sharp stab in her heart. She was able to let out a gasp before she felt her body out of her control again, but the pain continued, pricking especially in her chest and behind her neck. The Doctor's eyes filled with anger and pain, so much of them that Rose wondered what he could make himself do. Could he destroy Davros, really? Easily? Her answer came.

"Look, I'll do it. I will kill you, if it saves them and the universe."  
"You'll die. You'll drain yourself of power without a backup."  
"I know that. I'll do it."  
"You're too vain, Doctor."

"Rose told me that something bigger than a reality bomb happens to this universe, that it stops existing. You know, I think I know what that something bigger is, now. It's me." Davros shook his head slowly, the skin around his neck crinkling. Rose felt the pain decrease slightly, only to be replaced by a sudden wave of fury and anxiety. /No!/ she screamed in her head. /Don't do this to me!/

With one more glance over his shoulder, the Doctor took his hands out of his pockets. "This is your last chance, Davros. End this now, or I will."

"You won't."

And then there was nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

|oh ho ho, you thought the LAST chapter was a cliffie? Psshhh. I can do better than that. ;) anyway…. Um… please don't kill me. It won't help you… because the story doesn't stop there. Review, it's fine, I know how much hate mail I'm about to get. Yes. Major character death. DO NOT SKIP TO THE END OF THIS CHAPTER, OR OPTIMUS PRIME WILL CUT YOUR FACE OFF. Not really, but still. Try to enjoy it, 'kay? And, um, someone tell me if Donna has been out of character, because I'm having trouble deciding whether my Donna-writing skills are a huge bust or not. Cookies for reviews that don't involve pitchforks!|

There are different kinds of pain. Physical pain- dull, sharp, throbbing, sudden. Small or big. Emotional pain- loss, grief, love, even. Weak or strong.

The pain he felt was beyond all of that. Pain poured from every cell of his body that had ever been and ever would be. Pain scremed from the minds of nine preivous incarnations and countless future ones. Pain streamed from his hands and his eyes and his heart, the pain of the universe, of existence, of time itself. Pain so great that it would kill him, no chance of regeneration. He felt more than saw his companions fall to the ground behind him and knew that they would be unconscious; it was an after-effect of what Davros had used to keep them captive. None of them would have to watch him die. He wouldn't be tempted to use one of their life-forces to regenerate himself and live on. It was ending.

And yet it had just begun. He heard a scream of anger and pain as the fury and full power he unleashed finally hit Davros, in a wave so great he was sure it would kill him instantly. And yet, he couldn't stop. His mind's eye expanded and he wiped out every Dalek in the room, on the floor, in the ship with one effortless thought- _**burn**_. He found the reality bomb and left it useless, all its energy gone. Instead he concentrated his energy and turned Davros who was alive, despite all odds. And laughing at him.

"Thank you, Doctor! Thank you!"

_You wish to die, Davros? You will die thousands of times over. Millions of times, for hurting my Rose_.

"Ahahahaha!"

He knew that Davros was being incinerated from the inside out. He wanted the other 'man' to feel pain like he did, but he seemed only amused. At least, the Doctor assured himself, he will die. And I will, too. It's long past time, I think. I only wish…

Only wish…

Wish…

_Rose_…

She came to in time to see the Doctor's light begin to falter, and somehow she knew he was dying. "No!" Her body was her own again; she ran to him and he turned his head to her. "No, Doctor, don't! Stop! You can stop now!" But he couldn't, she could see that. He was too far gone. He hit with his knees, hard, scorching the ground as if the glow around him was hot. It wasn't. It was cold, and when Rose reached out, pain hit her hard. Pain like she had never experienced, worse than what Davros had done to her before. Sadness and loss and love and anger and aches and wounds that were millennia old. She gasped and drew back as if she'd been stung. And something in the Doctor's light had stirred inside of her a beast that had long since been dormant. Since Satellite five and the emperor of the Daleks. She didn't lose herself this time, but she let it take control of her limbs. She watched as it lifted her arms and knew that she was glowing gold. Jack and Donna and Mickey and her mother had come to, now, and there was an awed silence.

The Doctor turned his head as the light began to fade from his body, his eyes like dull remnants of the fire they had once held. "Rose," he whispered hoarsely.

"Bad Wolf," she replied. Or rather, Bad Wolf replied. She knew that saving him would kill her. It didn't matter. The universe was nothing without him, and both she and the Wolf knew that.

"You will live." And her arms were brought forward, letting her hands rest on either side of his head as he slumped to the ground. The energy that she had coursed into him, slowing to a trickle as she felt weaker and weaker.

Finally, the Doctor stood and took her hand. "Stop, Rose. Stop, please." She didn't stop until she knew he was safe, and then she fell and felt no more.

He lived. He felt the blood course through his veins, the two hearts beat quickly in his chest. He breathed in, let the air out, and for a moment he forgot. Only a moment. Only until Jackie's anguished cry brought him back.

Rose.

He saw her lying there at his feet, legs bent at strange angles, not broken but not comfortable, either. Her hair seemed to have dimmed considerably, her eyes had closed, and he knew before he bent to check that her heart had stilled. He knew that it should affect him, but he felt nothing. He felt numb. Jackie was there within a heartbeat, cradling her daughter's head in her arms and sobbing, trying to deny what they all already knew was true.

Rose Tyler was dead.

Donna clapped a hand over her mouth and turned away, into the safety of Jack's arms as he held her close. Even he was unable to hold back a few tears. Mickey tried to comfort Jackie, Jack comforted Donna, and the Doctor stood and stared down at the woman he had loved.


	8. Chapter 8

Still at a loss, he bent over and sank once again to his knees, able to reach out and touch her now that Mickey was letting Jackie sob into his shoulder. He glared reproachfully at the Doctor, who barely noticed. Rose's skin was cold and had lost most of it's former color. He was still trying to digest the fact that she was dead, and it still hadn't hit him. And at the cool touch of her cheek, it hit him full-force, so hard that he actually staggered a bit on his heels. Tears strained against his eyes, tears that he refused to cry. And yet, one escaped. A sign of his weakness, forever his weakness. His Rose. He hoarsely blurted her named, once, twice, he wasn't sure that he was even speaking English anymore, or that he was speaking at all. The world was spinning around him and he was waiting. Trying to catch up. Wishing that he wanted to go on without her and knowing with a cold certainty that life without Rose could only go on so long. He would die, soon.

But he had saved reality. The thought rippled through him, causing a new wave of sadness laced with nausea. He saved reality and lost Rose. How poetic. Could there have been another way? He felt a hand on his shoulder, a man's hand, sturdy and reassuring. He felt a woman's arms wrap around his neck and he heard a disembodied voice say, "Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry… so, so sorry…" Sobbing in the background. And the world came rushing back.

Jack was standing behind him, eyes cold and hard with sadness, more ice blue than ever. Donna was trying to hold him, trying to tell him it would be okay. He knew it wouldn't, but he managed to hug her back briefly and return to his feet. Mickey had gotten Jackie to her feet, but he had to hold her back, now, because she was trying to get at him. "You killed her! You killed her, you killed her, you killed her! You killed my baby!" Donna retaliated indignantly, taking a menacing step forward. "Oi! He did no such thing! Rose knew what she was doing, she was saving him, saving all of us…"

"_He killed her_!"

He stared at Jackie, her blonde hair disheveled, her eyes red-rimmed, tears pouring down her face, and felt a hard, empty place inside him, where he used to /feel/. "Yes," he agreed coldly, hating himself more in every moment. "I killed Rose Tyler." He said it more to himself, letting it sink in. Jackie cried out and wriggled free of Mickey.

He didn't react when her fist connected with his jaw. He heard the crack, knew that it had hurt him, and knew that her wedding ring had cut a gash in his chin, but he didn't even blink. He wanted her to keep on hitting him until he could feel again. Jack made a grab at her and was able to hold her back. "Stop! Stop it, all of you, stop!"

Even Jackie went silent. The Doctor managed to turn his head and look at her. Donna cleared her throat, her eyes glassy from tears. "Now, look. I'm… I'm sorry Rose died…" Mickey retorted indignantly, "You didn't even know her!"

"I'm **sorry** she died," Donna repeated, glaring at Mickey before casting a helpless glance at the Doctor, "but she saved all of us. And she knew what she was doing, when she did it. And nobody is to blame. You hear me? **Nobody**."

Without another word, he bent down and scooped her body into his arms. He turned away from the others and went to the lift, passing the remains of the Daleks he had killed with almost no effort. He stepped out onto the platform and flipped the switch, knowing that the others were standing there. Crying, some of them. Angry, some of them. All of them waiting.

When they caught up to him again and he heard them enter the TARDIS, he wasn't in the control room, or the console. He wasn't in his room, where he rarely was anyway. He wasn't in the library, either, or any of the literally countless other rooms inside his ship.

He was in Rose's room. The only companion's room he had kept after she had left. Another sign of his weakness. He had laid her on what had once been her bed, arranged her the way she always slept (on her right side, her right arm outstretched and her hand curled as if awaiting something.), and covered her with a blanket.

Was he trying to convince himself that she was just asleep? Not really. He was more just trying to do something with himself. He kneeled beside her bed as he had countless times, watching her sleep. But now she was dead. He had killed her, his only… the only one he could… he had ever…

Loved.

He let his head fall onto her shoulder and the tears came freely, if silently. "I'm sorry," he whispered or choked or cried, "I am so, so sorry." Someone was there beside him, her head on his shoulder, arm around him. Donna, of course. Nobody else knew where Rose's room was. Or had been. She had found him there, sitting on her bed feeling sorry for himself that she'd passed him by. But at least then she hadn't been dead.

"I never told her," he blurted suddenly, looking up but not at Donna. "Not really. I sort of implied it. But I never said it. I never said, 'I love you, Rose Tyler'." Donna turned his head with a hand and made him look at her. "She _**knew**_, Doctor. It was in everything you did. She had to know. And, well… you saved reality, didn't you?" He shook his head sadly, gazing sadly down at the body on the bed. "I saved everything, but I lost her. I couldn't save _her_." Neither said anything, but he moved to the side and hugged her, letting her feel as if she had comforted him. In a way, she had.

And then, a soft voice said, "I love you, too."

His initial reaction was something along the lines of _**what?**_ Had it been Donna? No. The look on her face told him that she was just as surprised. He saw that nobody was at the door, but the only other person in the room was…

"Impossible," he breathed, turning his head ever so slowly, hoping he hadn't imagined it.

Rose gazed at him, a weak smile plastered to her now colored face, her eyes as beautifully brown and as lovely as ever. And in that moment, oh how he loved her! With every single atom in his body he loved her, and he could even forget that Donna was there. He couldn't forget that Rose was dead.

"Rose," he heard himself whisper, "But…but…but how?" She smiled and her hand reached out to touch him gently on the cheek with her fingertips, sending a quiver of hot energy though him at her touch. "I am Bad Wolf," she said then, a quiet understanding passing between them. "And I create myself."

He let out a breath, and broke every rule he had ever set for himself.

This was no game.

This was a real kiss. When he cupped a hand around her cheek, caressing the soft skin just below her ear, leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, he did it with all the love and care he could muster.

And as she responded, pressing back with equal force, he remembered that they were not, in fact, the only people in the universe. He pulled back, probably too quickly not to seem shocked or disgusted, and found that Donna was grinning madly, standing behind him. And beside her, an arm wrapped possessively around her waist, was Captain Jack Harkness.

"Good Lord," he said brightly, "That was weird, huh?" The Doctor's eyes fell again to where the other man's arm was draped around Donna's waist.

"What are you **doing**?" Donna elbowed him and he shoved his hands in his pockets with a grin. "Nothin', loverboy. So, Rose, how's bein' immortal feel?" She smiled, albeit sheepishly, and mimed batting him away, sitting up. "Shut up, Jack."

And then it dawned on him.

Rose.

Rose was immortal.

Bad Wolf was the heart of the TARDIS, technically. So as long as he took good care of the ship, he and Rose could have…

"Forever," she said, as if finishing his thought. He stared at her, feeling like if he moved; he'd wake up from a dream. "I told you forever, and I _meant_ it." She leaned forward to kiss him again, and he let his lips linger longer than he should have, only realizing afterwards as he smacked his head somewhat violently with his palm-

"Your mum is going to absolutely **kill** me!"


	9. Chapter 9

Donna watched as he jumped to his feet and raced down the hallway, leaving the three of them behind. Rose sat up and rubbed her eyes, pushing the blanket away. She noticed Jack staring at her and shrugged. "What?"

"We're gonna have to tell him eventually." Rose was sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking interested. "Tell him what?" Donna elbowed him again. "Nothing. Nothing. We don't have to tell him…" And she was cut off by the snog of her life.

Rose giggled to herself, feeling no different than normal. Except for the bit that she felt like she could fly or run a million miles. The Doctor's kiss was still affecting her, making her giddy. She was still trying to let it sink in that he'd actually said it- he'd said it! Granted it was after he thought she was dead, but he had sort of said it before, too, and… and… and suddenly, sentences and thoughts were whirling around in her head.

"**But we both know, don't we Rose Tyler, that the Doctor is worth the monsters."**

"**Some things are worth getting your heart broken for."**

"**How long are you gonna stay with me?"**

"**Forever."**

"**And, I suppose… here's my last chance to say it…Rose Tyler, I-"**

He had loved all of his companions. She knew that. She knew that with the kind of certainty that shattered her into a million pieces all over again. She had touched his mind, his essence, and one thing she remembered clearly, so clearly that it made her want to cry- he had loved /all/ of them. And there was nothing wrong with that. Except… except that then she wasn't the first. And maybe his realization that she would be there forever, for as long as he wanted her, maybe that scared him off because he /didn't/ in fact, want her to stay forever. He wanted to love her for the short time he was allotted, and then he wanted to go on and love someone else. Her head hurt as two sides of an argument raged.

But he loves you! He said so, he loves you!  
And he loved them, too. Donna and Martha and Sarah Jane… and even Reinette.  
It's not the same!  
How do you know?  
It can't be.  
Maybe it can.  
It can.  
/It can./

"Heyyy, Jackie!" He was sure he had the most ridiculous look on his face, but he just couldn't for the life of him keep the joy from affecting his appearance. She was alive! She was alive! And another jubilant part of his mind declared loudly, And I kissed her! Twice!

Jackie glared at him, eyes red and puffy. "Come and see! Come on, let's move it…" he didn't wait, he just grabbed her by the arm and dragged her unceremoniously down the hallway, pushing her into Rose's room.

Right into the middle of Jack, who happened to, at that moment, be snogging Donna's face off. "Jack, **please**! Keep it in your pants for just a /minute/, would you?" Jack stumbled back and Jackie saw her daughter, as good as new, sitting on her bed with a smile plastered onto her face. "Rose!"

And the reunion ensued.

He watched and waited, and, later, when the party had broken up and the women went to take their respective showers, he had to admit he was feeling a bit jealous. He could still feel the soft press of her lips, and the fact that he had to **wait** to see her again was driving him insane. It would be a while. He paced around the control room, finally noticing Jack sitting casually in the captain's chair, playing with some useless tool he'd found somewhere. Flipping it open and closed.

"Oh and, Jack, by the way…" the other man met his gaze with innocent blue eyes. As if. "What the hell were you doing with Donna?" His perfectly innocent look split into a grin and a faint blush as he flipped the tool open again, then closed, dropping his eyes. "Nothing. Why do you ask?" The Doctor snorted in reply. "Didn't look like nothing."

"Hey, now, I wouldn't be talking. You got your fair share of kissin', and now I'm not allowed any? That's just unfair."

"Look, Jack. This isn't a game. This is Donna we're talking about, and I don't want her getting hurt." Jack stared up at him in disbelief.

"Hurt? You think I would ever, ever in a million thousand years hurt Donna Noble?"

"Ohhhh. So this is… different?" He got a nod in reply, and another flicking open and closed of the tool in his hands. The Doctor doubted it, but if Jack really thought that he had something he could hold onto for at least a few days… even if it was Donna… and besides, if he should happen to break her heart, Donna would just slap the heck out of him. "I don't want Rose gettin' hurt, either, Doctor," he heard from behind him. He'd forgotten that Mickey was standing there. Why did he always forget about Mickey? He turned to face the other man, feeling faintly angry at his accusation.

"Mickey, how many times have I saved her life? Honestly, at what stretch of the imagination can you think that I would…"

"You broke her heart, too," Mickey interrupted, crossing his arms. "If you wanted to know. Two years, I watched her. An' it never changed."

"You think I don't know that?"

Donna happened to step into the room at that moment, her still-wet hair up in a ponytail. Jack's disposition immediately changed. "Know what?" she yawned largely, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Blimey, savin' reality takes a lot outta you, huh?" Jack laughed. It wasn't funny at all, the Doctor thought, but Donna smiled at him. The whole thing made him more frustrated than before. Where was Rose? As if she could read his mind, Donna glanced at him and said, "Rose'll be out in a minute, her mum is refusing to leave her alone."

Sure enough, moments later, she hopped down the stairs into the console room, Jackie trailing behind her. He tried to catch her gaze, but she wouldn't look at him- and suddenly, his hearts sank. Something was wrong, and he had the feeling that he had caused it.

Rose couldn't make herself look at him- she was afraid she'd have to decide between asking him why he would lie to her and kissing him so hard he wouldn't know what hit him. Besides, she was tired. Her mum took the liberty of breaking the ice that had seemed to film over the room. "So, when exactly are you plannin' on takin' us home, huh? Or are we your prisoners now?" She stifled a laugh. /As if./ Of all the people in the history of, well, ever, she was pretty sure her mum was the last the Doctor would choose to keep prisoner. She glanced up to see him grimace.

"Um, no. Wellll, sort of. Welll…the TARDIS needs to recharge for about seven hours. And anyway, it's late, so… you'll have to sleep here."

"Sleep / **where** / ?" And this time, she did laugh. The whole situation was ridiculous. She felt Mickey come up behind her and stand too close. Again, she wondered if she should just tell him that standing that close to her was, well, awkward. "Look," the brown-haired man sighed exasperatedly, "it's the TARDIS, not some limited flat. Go up to a wall somewhere and imagine a room that you want. A door will appear, go inside, and if you don't like it, close your eyes and remodel it. Easy."

Second later, Jack had raced down the hallway, positioning a thick oil-black door right beside the bathroom. "Hah! Bathroom access!" Donna went a few feet down and situated a plum-colored, much more intricately designed door there, and opened it with a smile. "Yeah? Well, I have my /own/ bathroom!" Jackie eyed them warily and crossed the hall, placing her off-white door a few feet from the study that the Doctor frequently used to examine the strange things he found on other planets. Mickey placed his hand on the small of her back, and Rose knew exactly what he was thinking. She had to suppress a shudder of disgust and guilt as she reached behind her and removed his hand. "No, Mickey," she soothed. "Go make your own room. I'll see you later." He looked hurt, but she dodged his kiss and ducked into her old room, beside the Doctor's, for when he absoloutely /had/ to sleep. She closed the door and leaned her back against it, sliding down to the floor to sit with her head in her hands.

Part of her couldn't believe Mickey was still trying to get back with her. Part of her rejected the idea of any kind of physichal contact, and the other part of her knew that the only person there that she wanted- really, really wanted, for that matter- to share a bed with was the Doctor. The idea flushed her with warmth, but she squeezed her eyes shut tighter, knowing that in the state her feelings were toward him, thinking about him that way wasn't going to help. She toed her trainers off and pushed them blindly away with one socked foot, not daring to lift her head.

Minutes that could've been hours passed with her like that, trying and failing to clear her mind of the Doctor, until a knock- a tentative knock- came at her door. She slowly raised her head from her hands, got to her feet, and turned toward the door, her palms flat against it. "Who is it?" she asked softly, hoping it was Donna or her mum. Them, she could talk to, especially Donna. The voice that answered her made her stomach drop nervously. "It's me, Rose."

A now-clammy hand opened the door to see a farmiliar, angular face staring back at her, his dark brown eyes showing just how confused he really was. "Can I… come in?" She nodded and attempted to swallow, moving away from the door to sit on her bed, close to the headboard as she could. He closed the door behind him (Is that a good sign, she wondered? Or a bad sign? Or both?) and took a seat on her bed facing the door, staring at the wall in front of him. Neither spoke for a minute or two. She outstretched her legs and he took her feet onto his own legs, like he had thousands of times before.

She took a deep breath and said slowly, "Now I can start over." He turned his head to gaze at her, somewhat sadly, a half-smile on his mouth. "Mmm." She looked away.  
"Get a job. Get a flat. Get a… new life." He nodded, his fingers working circles on her feet. "You'll never die, Rose," he reminded her. "Yes I will," she replied. He turned to stare at her, his fingers frozen. She knew that he was wondering if she knew the implications of that (he'd have to kill the TARDIS for her to die). He was silent for the longest stretch of time, staring at her as if trying to decide if she were kidding. Finally, he said, "I don't think I could do that, Rose." She waited. "I don't think I could… I could kill you. Not again, anyway, it was my fault the first time, and…" she cut him off, drawing her feet back. "Forget it."

There was an icy silence.

"You could… stay, if you want," he concluded lamely, watching her for a reaction. She shrugged as if it didn't matter to her, but her heart was pounding in her chest so loudly that she was sure he could hear it. "I dunno. You'll just move on eventually, and I'd rather not be here when it happens, you know?" When she looked up again, she notice that he looked shocked. "What? Move on? Rose, what in the world are you talking about?"

"You… and don't try an' lie to me, because I was in your mind for a moment, and for some reason I remember this… you loved all of them. Sarah Jane and Martha and…"

"It's not the same!" He practically yelped, then calming himself down and twisting to face her. "Oh, Rose, it's /not/ the same. Not even close. I… I have a lot of friends. And I love them all very, very much. But not… not the way I love you." Although hearing him say that made her want to cry all over again, she managed to keep from letting those tears fall. "Is that what you said to them, too?" He leaned forward, seemingly desperate. "How can I make you understand? Is there any way that I could prove to you that I'm telling the truth?" She stared back at him, hoping her gaze was even and stone-cold.

"Oh! Oh, I know-" He scooted close, so that their knees were almost touching, and then he reached out with his hands to slowly bring her head closer, so that his hands were on either side of her temples. /Vulcan mind melding?/ she thought, /really?/

And then her mind was filled with images. Abstract, most of them, but then there were little, almost snapshots of her. Her smiling. Her laughing. Her crying. And each one came with a wave of emotion like she'd never felt before- emotion so intense that she knew it wasn't her feeling it. It was him. It was what the Doctor had felt for so long, bottled up deep inside.

It was the kind of love people only dream of, she realized. How could I have wanted to throw this away? The snapshots stopped and she opened her eyes to find him inches from her, his eyes boring holes in her own, with affection and love so deep in them that it seemed centuries old. She leaned in- or maybe he leaned in first, who knows how these things start? – and their lips met in a rush so hot and electric that she thought she'd melted on the spot, every vein in her body filled with blood as hot as lava. His lips toyed with hers and traveled down her neck to her collarbone. She had to force herself to speak. "Doctor," she murmured breathlessly. He increased his attentions to her neck, making her spine prickle. "Doctor, my /mum/…" He stopped to bring up his head and look at her, confused. "What about her?"

"Her room's on the other side of the study, which is next to mine."

"And…?"

"She's gonna come and say goodnight, wouldn't you think?"

"Oh!"

He leaped from the bed to pace in front of it, his hair still messed up, his face flushed. "And that, Rose Tyler, is why the potassium in a banana is so vitally important…" There was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" she inquired, leaning against the headboard. Her mother opened the door, giving the Doctor a weird look. "I was just explaining the hydrophonics of the TARDIS's inner core, " he explained. Jackie stared at him for a moment before asking, "What's a banana got to do with it?" His face went red briefly before she looked at Rose and said, "I'm goin' to sleep. Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, mum." The Doctor received one more weird look before she closed the door. They waited until they heard her close her own door before Rose burst into laughter and he collapsed on his back on the bed, letting out a breath. "What's so funny?"

"Bannanas and hydrophonis? Really?" He grinned at her upside down, which just made her laugh harder. She had barely closed her eyes to suck in a deep breath when she felt a warm body pressed against her own, his lips met hers again, this time more passionately, insistent, tugging her lips apart so that his tongue could explore just behind her teeth. It all happened so fast that she could do nothing but fall backward, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back.

Of course, he waited until he'd kissed her breathless to say, "Oh, and I forgot to tell you: the TARDIS has no inner core."


	10. Chapter 10

Donna dug her toes deeper into the sand, hands clasped behind her back. The warm saltwater washed over her feet, leaving her a few more inches deep in the sand then she had been before. She really wasn't sure what to think about anything anymore; her head was spinning constantly from everything that had happened to her recently. She was happy. Happy for the Doctor that he had finally found his Rose. And grateful that the whole of existence had been saved. But something was still missing from that puzzle, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, and it was absoloutely driving her insane. On top of that, she wasn't sure what was happening with Jack. She liked him, she had to admit. He was charming and coy and handsome and funny, too, but she had the nagging suspicion that there was more to him that she needed to know before assuming anything about them as… well, anything.

She had crept out of bed to another hallway, one that she could just create with her mind (the TARDIS was really fantastic that way) and into a room that nobody but she knew existed. The door opened onto a beach. It was night on the beach, the sand was still warm from the 'sunlight', and the imaginary waves splashed as if they were real. She had always found the ocean soothing, and tonight was no different- but all the same, in the back of her mind, thoughts kept whirling around, causing her to clench her fists in frustration. She crossed her arms and sighed, closing her eyes, letting the breeze that wasn't a breeze caress her skin. /God,/ she thought, /I sound like some saucy romance novel./ After a moment, she felt someone behind her nudge her gently, probably by accident, in the shoulder. She turned to see Captain Jack Harkness, standing in his dayclothes, staring out at the ocean.

"How'd you get here? Nobody knows where this place is." He shrugged, glancing at her. "I went to a space in the hallway and thought, 'wherever Donna is', and I ended up here." She had to fight the urge to tell him how sweet that was of him. "It's nice, though," he finished, watching the obsidian waves come in and out. She didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at him, her mouth set in a thin line. The 'breeze' picked up as if in response to her concentration, whipping her ponytail around in the process.

"Jack, what are you like, really?"

"Uh, what?" She sighed patiently when he met her gaze, looking honestly confused. "You know. Who are you when you're not randomly appearing to save the day. How did you end up with the Doctor. That kind of thing."

He cleared his throat, shoving his hands deep into his trench coat pockets. "Well, for starters, it was really Rose who found me. Not the Doctor. It was before he regenerated, um, maybe three or four years ago now. Wow, has it been that long? Anyway, she kind of ended up dragging me with them on an adventure, and then, well, I was hooked. How can ya not be, with the Doctor?" She smiled slightly in understanding- it was true, there was no escape. "And before that?" she pressed, not taking her eyes off him.

"Um. Well." She had never seen him so flustered about anything, which made her glad she had asked. "I was kind of, mm… a salesman. Sorta." She grinned, she couldn't help it- he was just so uncomfortable. "An' what did you sell?"

"All sorts of things. Not exactly… fairly… er, priced."  
"So you were a conman." He gulped.  
"Well now, that's a harsh word, /really/, I did very little conning after I… er… got kicked out of the Star Fleet…" She laughed, relaxing slightly. "There's no such thing as the Starfleet," she replied. "Yeah! Yeah, there is, only it's not… it's not like the Star Trek thing. It's kind of like an outer-space air force. I'm human, if you wanted to know, but the fifth century is… well… different. And I got kicked out after a certain incident with two of my officers." She shook her head, smiling. "I don't even wanna know, Jack."

"No," he agreed, relieved, "You really don't. What about you, though?" She froze up, knowing he was looking at her, waiting for her answer.

"I'm a temp," she said finally, clenching and unclenching her fists. "Donna Noble. The useless temp." She couldn't ever keep the bitterness out of her voice, saying that word. Not anymore. She was hopeless, really. Absoloutely a waste of space. Well, not since the Doctor, but now that he had Rose… where did she fit in? "Hey," he murmured, resting his hand inbetween her shoulders, "You're not useless. Not to me, anyway." She closed her eyes and leaned her shoulder into his side, which let his arm wrap comfortably around her shoulder. "Thanks," she said, only somewhat sarcastically. He chuckled. "Yeah," he replied, "Says the ex-conman. My opinion's not worth much."

"Sure it is." She said it before she thought about it. She hadn't meant for him to know that she valued him, not in any way, not yet- she wanted to be sure it was worth it first. Apparently her heart had decided before her mind had. He didn't speak, just stood there in the stoic semi-silence as they watched the waves roll in.

"How long d'you think Rose and the Doc'll last?" He asked, much to her shock and surprise.

"Why? I mean, are you suggesting… are you sayin' that it's not, like… that he doesn't…"

"Love her?" he finished, their gazes meeting. She knew her mouth had fallen open; she didn't care. He shrugged.

"This is the Doctor we're talkin' about. He's not… he doesn't, you know, _settle_."

"What makes you think Rose does? I know you've known her longer, but it's been two years, right?" He grinned slightly, almost as if he was ashamed. "She's a woman. Of course she settles." She glared at him, almost at the point of moving away from him. "Watch it, Superman. You happen to be talkin' to a woman who does not, in _any way_, **settle.**" She said the last word as if it were a dirty thing to say, scrunching her nose. "That's good," he replied, "Because, me? I'm a drifter."

For a moment she contemplated what he was insinuating with that statement. Was he kind of maybe a little planning a future around her? Or did he mean that he wasn't going to plan a future around her? Or that he wasn't sure he should or could plan a future around her? "But he loves her," she argued. "You saw it with your own eyes!"

"She _had_ just come back from the dead, Donna."  
"And I suppose you fancy yourself as Cupid, huh? The go-to man for love?"  
"Yep," he replied, popping the 'p'.

"Well," she retorted defensively, "I'm a _woman_, and I say, they'll last."

He pretended to be shocked. "You're a _woman?_ All this time, and I thought…" She slapped his chest with one palm and he laughed at her as she tried to get away, his arm falling to her waist to keep a firmer hold on her. After a moment he spun her so that both of his arms could wrap around her, pinning him to his chest. She stared at him, mouth agape, for moments that could easily have been years, taking in the satisfied smirk, the slightly ruffled black-brown hair, and those _eyes_. God, she couldn't _resist_ those eyes…

And she found herself kissing him again.

The weird thing about kissing Jack Harkness, she thought, is that it just gets better and better. She believed firmly that this was true. Because she had kissed _him_ this time, which surprised her a lot more than it surprised him, she was on her tiptoes to reach his lips, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull her closer, and she could feel his hands through the back of her shirt, spreading on her back, sending little shivers of excitement up and down her spine. He was all too happy to return the favor, deepening the sweet-turned-passionate kiss and dipping his head closer, but not close enough for her to stand completely on her flat feet.

She let out a squeal as she felt herself lifted up off the ground, only to find that he was carrying her, his bare (bare? Why hadn't she noticed they were bare?) feet thumping on the sand that wasn't sand, heading for the door that led away from the beach that wasn't a beach, in the spaceship that wasn't… er, _was, _a spaceship.

"You're gonna drop me!" she accused him loudly. He shushed her. "Do you want someone to come out of their room right now and ruin our fun?"

"Fun?!"

But it _was_ fun. More fun than she'd had in a long time. She closed her eyes because she felt like they were going way too fast; her heart sped up when she felt him jolt as if he'd stumbled.

"Augh! Hey, who put that-" And he dropped her. She closed her eyes, waiting once again for impact- but she hit something soft that sprang slightly beneath her weight. A mattress. A mattress? A _mattress!_ "There," he finished, grinning at her.

"You dropped me," she accused, her heart pounding a mile a minute. He shook his head. "Not really. I more strategically placed you. On my bed."

She had to fight to swallow. What was happening here? Was it what she thought was happening? Was she just some crazy homeless bum strapped into a straitjacket, making up all sorts of insane ideas, like that a man might want…

Her mind was wiped clear except for a few scattered thoughts (along the lines of _Oh my God, oh my God oh my God oh my GOD, _or _He __**did**__ drop me and he's just trying to cover for it!_) when he kissed her again, leaning onto her, though not crushing her like he probably could have. He wasn't a thin little stick of a man, but she managed to convince him to roll over using force on his shoulders- and lips- so that she could straddle him, her hands pinning his shoulders.

She grinned at the surprised look on his face.  
"On top, huh? I like that in a…" she cut off the rest of his sentence and kissed him breathlessly, losing herself in that cocky smirk and those captivating blue eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

Of course he had left her room. It wasn't like she expected anything else. Not really.

But still.

His kisses had left her burning with things she'd never, never ever _ever_ felt before. Things that she was pretty sure would make her mother blush like a bride. Desire? Oh yes. But it was more than that. Desire didn't even cover the _half _of it, because 'desire' made it sound as if she could ignore it eventually. She could not ignore this. His room was right next-door and she found herself wishing she had advanced time-lord hearing, so she could know what he was doing. Surely not sleeping. But why did she care? Why couldn't she just let him alone? She didn't want to be a clingy… whatever she was to him. Girlfriend really, _really _did not sound like the right word. In any case, she didn't want to make him regret whatever had just happened between them. So why did she wonder what he slept in? It wasn't as if she had just figured out he didn't sleep in a suit. But that was the thing- then what _did_ he sleep in? Pajamas? Somehow she couldn't see her Doctor in pajamas.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She could, but that made things much less bearable. So instead she imagined he was working on the TARDIS, even though she had heard him close the door and not open it again.

Rose let out a sigh and rolled onto her back, kicking the covers away and laying one hand on her stomach. She felt restless and too hot. She closed her eyes and imagined the room a few degrees colder.

She had changed into pajamas of her own- that was another weird thing: he had seen her in her pajamas, but she had never seen him in anything but a suit.

Which really hadn't been a problem since about four minutes ago.

Almost subconsciously, she wished he would come back. But what would that mean for them?

Stop, she commanded herself. Think of something else. Think of… of… Donna.

Donna and Jack. She wondered what they were doing right then- oh, no no no no no, not like that…

But he _had_ been snogging her face off. And she hadn't stopped him.

STOP, she commanded herself again. Think of Mickey.

Not helpful. Not helpful at all, because all she could do was compare him to the Doctor, which wasn't fair and wasn't helping her. Hence it not being helpful. More like she was comparing the way they made her feel. Mickey had never made her feel so helpless, so caught up in… in _need_.

Need for what? Need for him to kiss you? Hold you? Need for him to…

Oh, I don't know. Never mind.

Think of mum.

_That_ did it. Her mind calmed instantly. Mum. Her mum would definitely not approve anything that had transpired in her room except possibly the changing into her pajamas. She grimaced.

I'm not mum's little girl anymore, she thought.  
Hah.  
If only she _knew…_

And just like that, her relief was short-lived. She tried to distract herself by looking at her dresser, at the books and little trinkets she had collected. There was a funny-looking journal of sorts, which the Doctor had given her. She would just put a palm on it and it would collect her thoughts and jot them down for her- and only she could read it, unless she wanted someone else to see it. She flipped her legs over the side of the bed and got to her feet, retrieving the leather-bound book and settling back on her bed.

_Entry one._

_It's, um… February something. Nighttime. My watch says its 9:55, but that really doesn't mean much. _

_I was kind of thinking about how- oh, we just came from 1878, from Scotland, by the way- I was kind of thinking about when Cassandra had possessed me on New Earth. I don't know why I was thinking about it. Does it matter? Anyway, um… Cassandra used me for a lot of things. Just my body, though, or so I thought. She also used my mind, what I knew about the Doctor. Who, by the way, did the sweetest thing today. I haven't been feeling too well since we left, so today I decided I wasn't getting out of bed. And he came in with tea (badly made, but still) and toast (burned slightly) and sat there until I woke up._

_And we talked for practically ever. It was wonderful. _

_Anyway, Cassandra used what I knew about the Doctor to compromise our, er, situation. The situation being that the Doctor, at least this regeneration, is suddenly very, very handsome. Somewhat goofy, but definitely a looker. And of course I noticed. I'm not going to pretend I didn't. Cassandra hadn't had a proper body in forever, so when she possessed mine and suddenly had a… well, rather useful one… she took advantage of that._

_She snogged him._

_And for a while he must've had to have thought it was me. _

_So I was thinking, what if it had been me? I mean, obviously it wasn't. But if it had been, would things have changed that much between us? I know I care about him. He's saved my life so many times, and he's just an all-around wonderful person. But is it even remotely possible he might one day kind of…_

_Oh please. This is ridiculous. He's an alien! And I'm an alien, to him, I suppose. _

_Plus- what would mum say?_

Nope. Still not helpful.

The Doctor was restless. He had changed into more comfortable clothes, clothes he could easily fall asleep in, if he felt the need to. And truth be told, he could've gone to sleep.

If he wasn't so busy thinking about Rose.

He kept having the weirdest urges to go back into her room. Surely by now she was sleeping; he could hear very little from her room. The occasional rustle of sheets that might mean she was rolling around in bed, dreaming.

Dreaming about… him?

Oh please, he chided himself, why would she be dreaming about you?  
I don't know. You've dreamt about her.

He blushed scarlet, sitting heavily down on his bed, his face in his hands. He had tried to forget that. It was shameful, really. Something a human male might deal with, but surely not a time-lord.

Or maybe they did. He wouldn't know, they were all gone now, and even in 900 years he had never felt this way. He wasn't surprised.

Just ashamed.

He couldn't help to remember that dream, now that he had reminded himself.

It had been sometime in February right after his regeneration, maybe a day or two after the werewolf encounter. Two. Yes, it had been two, because the day before The Dream, Rose had been sick and he had spent the day in her room, talking to her.

That night he had laid in his bed, thinking about her, about how compassionate, how _human_ she was, and smiling to himself because she was just so beautiful, in so many ways. And for some reason he didn't stop himself thinking it like he usually did. It might've had something to do with the regeneration; this one was less responsible in that way.

When he had finally fallen asleep, he had dreamt of her. He was in her room again, but he had been with her.

_With _her. In bed.

The dream was all heat and fumbling and… and… he let out a groan into his palms.

Stop thinking about that, he commanded himself. Think of Donna.

Donna and Jack. Jack and Donna. DonnaJack JackDonna. He hoped Jack wasn't taking that too far.

Not helping, he decided.

Think of… Mickey.

Ugh, Mickey. He wasn't sure why he detested Mickey so much. He had tried to like him, for Rose's sake, but the Doctor was just so…

Jealous?

Oh, wow. Yes. Jealous. The Doctor was jealous of Mickey the Idiot. Because he was human and Rose had loved him and they had been happy.

Also partially because he was pretty sure they had slept together, BUT, he wasn't thinking like that about her right then, or he wasn't supposed to be, so it didn't matter.

No, that didn't help either.

Think of… Jackie?

His mind stopped whirling. Yes, just the thought of the elder Tyler whipped his mind into shape. Jackie Tyler was probably the most daunting creature he had ever faced in his lifetime.

Ha, he thought, she would absolutely crucify me if she knew how I had kissed Rose after she left.

No. Not thinking about that. Not thinking about it, not thinking about it… he collapsed onto his back, sighing loudly and probably overdramatically.

"Screw it," he said, "It's not worth the trouble."

And he stood, stretched slightly, checked his reflection in the mirror (which he never did, but his hair was looking a bit scraggly and messy. Running his hand through it only helped a little) and left his room.

The hallway was almost ghostly quiet.

He hesitated at the sound of footsteps, and then he heard a squeal. "You're gonna drop me!"

Donna? He froze. Yes, it was Donna. Jack's room was down the hall, and he just watched as he saw the Captain, carrying Donna (carrying her! The nerve! He hoped she slapped him properly for that) and they disappeared into his room.

The Doctor resisted the urge to groan. That was not making things easier.

He pushed open the door to her room and just stood there for a moment, staring into the darkness of her room. He could see the soft rise and fall of her chest as she slept. Behind him and down the hall (Jack, of course) he heard laughter and a stern 'shhhh!'. That did it. He stepped into her room and closed the door silently behind him.

Without thinking, he let his feet guide him. He climbed into the bed as quickly and quietly as he could, willing the springs not to creak.

She was there. He wasn't sure why that surprised him so much. He _knew_ she was there. But she was so, so _there_. Next to him, her warm body just inches away. He couldn't resist.

He reached out and gathered her into his arms, feeling her exhale and tense up a little as he curled an arm around her, the other hand reaching up to toy with the soft blonde hair at the nape of her neck. "Hello," he whispered.

Oh my God.

That was the first thought she had when she felt him pull her close. Oh my God.

His chest was solid and warm on her back, his arm almost protective, and his fingers on her neck making her quiver inside as electricity surged through her veins. Oh my God, she thought. He came.

She settled against him and she felt the faint stubble of his cheek against hers as he whispered hello.

"Hi," she murmured in reply, her heart hammering in her chest. She wondered if he was psychic enough to know that she had been thinking unclean thoughts. Mostly about him.

"I'm sorry," he said after a few moments, "I couldn't sleep. I was thinking of…" he hesitated then, before finishing, "you. I was thinking of you and how not being right here next to you was driving me slowly insane."

A smile crept slowly across her mouth as she closed her eyes, getting comfortable. Her heart rate slowed as the initial shock wore off, but the burning had increased.

"How would you tell the difference?" she asked softly, trying not to giggle. His long, dry fingers tickled at her neck and she just had to let out a quiet laugh, scrunching her shoulders up. "I dunno," he admitted. "Me being here, well, that's just proof of the obvious. Your mother would burn me at the stake."

"Ha. Yeah, she would. Only I wouldn't let her."  
"Thanks. I feel quite safe now."  
"Oh, be quiet." He laughed, a low, surprisingly appealing sound that practically vibrated through her. And by appealing, she meant just plain sexy.

"Though it was funny when she slapped you earlier," she giggled, turning her head so she could see him better.

He was in pajamas.

Sort of.

But still.

He was in a dark, soft cotton shirt and flannel pants.

Nothing special, so why was it driving her absolutely crazy?

And then she noticed the line of dried blood- a scab, maybe? – on his chin. She could just faintly see those deep brown eyes, eyes that held her world and everything else in them. He was smiling.

"What happened?" she asked, reaching around with one hand to brush the slightly swollen part on his chin. He grimaced.

"Speaking of your mother slapping me… when you were dead, she got away from Mickey, and she punched me. Woman's got a helluva right hook."

"Why didn't you duck?"  
"Honestly? I couldn't think about much at the time. Just that you were dead and it was my fault and I had lost the only person I had ever really loved."

She gazed at him, noticing the tint of sadness in his face, her fingers resting on his chin. And then she reached up to place a gentle kiss on his lips, pulling back right away and settling back into his arms.

"It wasn't your fault. I knew what I was doing."  
"That doesn't make it any less my fault, Rose. Just because I did something stupid that meant you felt like you had to save me…"  
"I did have to save you. The universe would've been nothing without you."  
"Would've been better off, you mean."  
"No."

His hand left her neck and fell to the small of her back, where, hours before, she had moved Mickey's hand away. Now she just felt wanted. Safe. And very, very in love.

Possibly also very, very in lust. But that was another matter.

"I love you, Rose Tyler," he murmured, and she fell asleep to the comforting double-thump of his hearts.


	12. Chapter 12

He jolted awake at the sound of a knocking on the door. His immediate reaction was, Who's knocking on my door? It's got to be early. Nobody would be awake, and if they were, why would they knock on my door?

And then he remembered the night before, Rose falling asleep in his arms, and he rolled over, staring at her, panicked. He wasn't in his room, he was in hers.

Which meant that either Mickey or Jackie was knocking on the door.

"Rose!" he whispered urgently. She snored softly.

"Rose, wake up! Someone's at the door!"

"Go an' get it, then," she slurred, still half-asleep.

"What if it's your mum?"

That woke her up. She sat straight up, her hair ruffled, eyes wide. "Oh."

"Rose? Sweetheart, are you awake?"

Their gazes met in a rush of panic and, and his part, fear. She shoved him. "Go! Get under the bed! Hurry up!"

He scrambled underneath the bed, fighting a sneeze. It was definitely too dusty under there, but the alternative wasn't any better. He heard the door open and he froze, barely daring to breathe.

"Mum, what _time_ is it?"  
"Four thirty."  
"Why are you awake?"  
"He said seven hours, didn't he? And that was at nine last night."  
"Good Lord, we need more than seven hours of sleep!"  
"You can sleep at home."  
"Home?"

There was an uncomfortable silence that the Doctor could imagine was burning the room between the angry, defiant gazes of both parties. He closed his eyes and silently thanked the universe that he was not, in fact, involved. He heard Jackie's footsteps and froze again, holding his breath, hearing the faint creak as she sat on the bed.

"You _are_ coming home, aren't you?"  
"Mum, I _am_ home."

He felt a lump form in his throat when she said that, because did that mean she was staying? For good?

"This place?" Her mother received no answer. The Doctor felt slightly indignant and defensive on the TARDIS' behalf.

"Rose, you can't stay here forever."  
"Sure I can."  
"That's imposing and overstaying your welcome. I taught you better than that."  
"It's not overstaying my welcome! He _asked_ me to stay!"

Oh great, he thought, his hearts speeding up. Now I'm dead. Thanks, Rose.

"He _what_?"  
"You heard me."  
"You'll get killed! Again!" When Rose didn't answer, he wondered why she wasn't reminding Jackie that she was immortal. He decided not to worry about it. He'd probably just get slapped. There was another silence in which he heard Rose shift slightly. He could just imagine her fixing her hair, trying not to meet her mother's gaze. Jackie continued incredulously, "After all he's put you through, you still trust him?"

What Rose said next shocked him to the core.  
"I love him, mum." His head shot up and he slammed into the underside of the bed with a loud thump. "Ow!" he had to stifle a few choice words, holding the forming bump on the top of his head. Why why why had Rose said that? Why did Jackie have to know? He was toast. No, he was the burnt stuff people scrape _off_ their toast.

"Rose, what's under your bed?"  
"Nothin'. Why? Why would there be somethin' under my bed?"  
"Did you not hear that?"  
"Hear what?"  
"What are you hiding?"

Another silence. He was fairly sure he hadn't been that scared in at least a hundred years.

"Oh my God. Rose, is he _under your bed_?"  
"Who?"

And then there were two inquisitive hazel eyes that immediately turned livid as Jackie recognized him. He was practically frozen, staring at her, his mouth agape. "Get out! Get out from under there, you filthy…" she swatted at him and he scrambled gracelessly to his feet. He saw Rose biting back laughter and knew he looked a state, covered in dust, his hair sticking up at all angles. He tried to stand straighter and look more daunting.

"Rose! Why was he _in here_?"  
"Um…"  
"She didn't know," he cut in, hands in his pockets.  
"WHAT?"

Rose was confused, he could tell by the look on her face. He took a few steps toward the door, swallowing nervously. "I'm just… gonna, um, go. I'm gonna leave now, okay? Sorry 'bout that. We'll be ready to leave in about…"

He had to duck as Jackie swung a hand at him. "Mum!"  
"HE WAS IN YOUR ROOM!"

"I _know_ he was in here! I _have_ known he was in here! I was the one that told him to hide under the bed!" At least, he thought, Jackie was occupied with Rose for a few moments. He backed against the door, receiving a sharp look. "Don't even _think _about it, mate." He froze obediently.

"Why was he in here, then?"  
"Mum, honestly. This is ridiculous. I'm twenty-two!"  
"He's an _alien_!"  
"I don't _care_ if he's an alien!"  
"You'll end up dyin' again and I'll never know what happened!"

"Actually," he couldn't resist butting in, "She's immortal, remember?"

The two of them gaped at him, one in confusion, the other in shock. It dawned on him that Rose hadn't told her mother that she was immortal.

"What?"  
"Um. Well. She can't exactly die. Not anymore. Welll, she could, but she'd just come right back to life."  
"_What_?"  
"She…" Rose cut in, shaking her head.  
"Doctor, just stop. Okay? No more talking."

His mouth clapped shut.  
"He's kiddin', right?"  
"Yes."  
"Is he really? Tell me the truth, Rose."  
"No."  
"So let me get this straight. He was in here, you knew about it and were okay with it, and told him to hide under your bed. Then you lied to me about that, made up somethin' about loving him, and then he tells me you're immortal, you lie about _that_, and it turns out I have a daughter that can't die."  
"Yeah," she nodded, " 'Cept the lyin' about loving him. That part was true."

He gulped.  
"I'm goin' back to sleep," Jackie murmured, looking a bit worse for wear. "This has gotta be some kinda weird dream."

She approached the door and he skittered out of her way as she left. He heard her close her own door, and then he and Rose just stared at each other.  
"Your family," he said slowly, "Is completely, utterly insane."

"C'mere," she replied, patting the bed. He shook his head. "No way. What if she comes back?"  
"She's not coming back. Not for another three hours at least."  
He eyed her warily. "You're sure?"  
She nodded, grinning at him, and he glimpsed her tongue peeking out from between her teeth. "Come on," she urged. "I won't bite."

He sat on the bed with a relieved sigh, blinking rapidly. "That was the scariest thing I've ever…. Mmpff."

He couldn't finish his sentence because he was suddenly lip-locked. Literally. Rose leaned into him, framing his face with her hands, and he leaned back on his elbows to support the both of them, profusely enjoying his current situation. Their tongues had just met experimentally when the door re-opened and they pulled apart, suddenly staring at a confused-looking Jack.

"Oh. Sorry. Am I interruptin' something here?"  
"Ever heard of knocking?" The Doctor replied, glaring at him. Jack couldn't bite back a quick grin.  
"Either of you seen Donna?"  
"_Why_ would we have seen Donna?"  
"Check the kitchen," Rose suggested. "She might be makin' tea."  
"Tea," Jack repeated. "Right. You two have fun," he smirked, and then retreated into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

"My head hurts," the Doctor said, pouting.


	13. Chapter 13

[ the review button is very, very lonely! :[ in other news, I'm about ready to finish up this fic in real time. There are a few more chapters already written and the final ones are in the process, so uploads are coming, assuming my reviews tell me that this fic is worth keeping up with ;)]

"Hey."

She twisted around to see Jack leaning against the wall, hair tousled, looking half-asleep. "Hi. I didn't mean to wake you up when I left," she apologized, turning back to the tea. "Oh, please," he snorted, taking a seat at the counter, rubbing his eyes. "It wasn't you who woke me up, it was…"  
"Jackie," she finished his sentence with a smile, pouring herself and him a cup of tea. "Here," she offered him the warm mug and he took it gratefully, taking a sip. "This is great," he enthused, "How'd you make it?" She shrugged. "I found some weird tea mix in the Doctor's pantry from some planet or other." He laughed. "You sure it's tea?"  
"No."

Minutes later, Rose sauntered into the kitchen with a yawn, in sweats and a tee shirt. It was still only about five in the morning, but nobody had managed to fall back asleep except Jackie- Mickey had slept through the whole thing. "Hey, kiddo," Jack grinned at her as she pulled up a chair, stifling another yawn. "Doc didn't let ya get much sleep, huh?" She glared at him wearily and Donna gave him a half-hearted slap. "No," Rose replied stiffly, "my _mum_ wouldn't let me get much sleep." The Doctor appeared, a bounce in his step, looking more awake than all of them put together. "Fortunately, _I _don't need much sleep," he announced, picking up the now empty box that had housed the 'tea' the other three were drinking. "Why'd you use up all the detergent?"

Donna spluttered in shock and Jack laughed at her. "See, I _knew_ it wasn't tea!" Rose pushed her mug away, raising an eyebrow. "Tea?" the Doctor repeated, squinting at the box, "It says very clearly right here that this is detergent!"

"Yeah, well, not _all_ of us read space nonsense, Doctor Spock!" Even Rose had to giggle at the look he got on his face when she said _that_, both indignant and amused. "My ears are _not_ that big anymore," he insisted, and Jack and Rose roared with laughter as Donna stared at him. "Anymore? What'do you _mean_, anymore?"

"Blimey, it's early," Mickey said, shuffling into the kitchen. "Why's everyone up?"  
"Be_cause_," the Doctor replied, "_Jackie_ wouldn't let _some of us_ sleep."  
"_And,_" Jack continued, mocking the Doctor's tone of voice perfectly, "_Some _of us were caught in the _act_." Rose shook her head and the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, obviously confused. "What act?" Jack laughed heartily and Donna chuckled along with him, but Mickey looked a bit trodden-on. "Oh. I slept through that, then?"

"You're lucky," Rose replied.  
"Doesn't look like _I'm_ the lucky one," he muttered under his breath. The Doctor missed it, but it appeared he was the only one. "Wait, I'm still not getting this. The 'act'?"

"I'll explain it later," Rose replied.  
"I'll bet you will," Jack chuckled, leaning back in his chair as Rose cast an annoyed look at him and Donna stifled a giggle.

They all fell deadly silent when Jackie strode into the room, though Jack seemed to be stifling yet another bout of laughter, covering his mouth with his hand. "Good morning," Rose said softly. Jackie stared at her for a moment, then noticed the discarded mugs on the counter. "This yours?" she asked Rose, and without waiting for an answer took a sip. "That's lovely," she said, sounding surprised. "What is it?"

The entire room, save Mickey, burst into uncontrollable laughter. "It's detergent," the Doctor managed before cracking up all over again. Jackie dropped the mug hastily. "Why're you all drinkin' detergent, then?"  
"I didn't _know_ it was detergent," Donna insisted.

The ship suddenly creaked, groaned, and jolted, sending the mugs crashing to the floor. "What the…" the Doctor rushed to the door of the TARDIS, Rose and Donna close behind. He slammed open the doors and stared out at what seemed to be a room.

A room filled with huddled people, staring at them with round eyes. Donna instantly recognized the room that she and Jack had fallen into from the vents above, and behind her, Jack let out a breath.

"Doctor!" someone from the crowd cried out, and then Martha burst from the mass of people, rushing to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. His mouth fell open in shock but he managed to return the embrace before she stepped back. "You found us!" She said happily, though not seeming surprised in the least. "Who's _she_?" Rose asked incredulously, appearing beside him. He swallowed.

"Um, Rose, this is Martha. Martha, this is…"  
"Rose," she completed, sounding awed. "Oh my God, you found him."  
There was a silence before Donna butted in. "Doctor, we're on Dovras's ship," she informed him. "Davros," he corrected. "How do you know?"  
"We were here before."  
"That was you?" someone inquired from the crowd.  
"Course it was him," Martha replied, not taking her eyes off the Doctor. "He's the Doctor, after all." Rose cleared her throat and Jack elbowed her. "Let her do what she needs to do," he whispered, and she crossed her arms but made no further moves.  
"Well," the Doctor said then, "We can definitely fit all of you in the TARDIS…"  
"In that thing?" someone shouted.  
"It's bigger on the inside," he replied patiently. Jackie appeared in the doorway. "I found the…tea," she finished after a pause, noticing all the people outside. "Jackie," the Doctor said, "We'll be having company. Think you can make some more?"

Later, as people filed into the TARDIS' newly-made auditorium, the Doctor found himself awkwardly alone with Martha. Rose had gone to change out of her sleeping clothes, and everyone else seemed to have just disappeared. He tried not to meet her gaze, but that meant that he was caught by surprise when Martha's hand found his and squeezed. He wondered why when Rose did that, he felt like flying, and when Martha did it, it just hurt his hand. "I really missed you," she said, and he turned his head to find that she was staring at him with those same dark-brown puppy-dog eyes that had always seemed to make him uncomfortable. Why couldn't he talk to her like a normal person? He was wondering this exactly when Rose happened to show up, and he abruptly dropped Martha's hand, though it was obvious that Rose had noticed. She stared for a long second at Martha before asking him, "Where are we takin' them all?"

"London," he replied, hoping she wasn't making assumptions. By the way she stalked back to the kitchen he was pretty sure she was. "I can't believe she found you," Martha said, oh so helpfully. "Yeah," he agreed, staring after her, "Me neither."

He made sure it was the middle of the night when he let them all go, hoping that the anonymity would prompt Martha to leave. It didn't. "Do you mind taking me to Cardiff?" She asked him, her eyes all glazed again. He stared at her for a moment. "Sure," he gave in, "That's fine."

So it was just his luck that the TARDIS wouldn't move. It had taken her a lot of energy to transport them all to London, having to travel at full speed through the remnants of the time and gravity shields Davros had put up. She needed another seven hours of recharging. He sighed and his face fell into his hands, as the others filed slowly into the console room, which seemed to be the unofficial gathering place now that there were, what, six of them on the ship. Seven including Martha, which he wasn't. He felt someone come up behind him and prayed to the universe that it wasn't Martha. He wasn't sure he could deal with that.

It was Rose. She seemed oddly detatched, but he guessed she was just tired. She had spent the whole day organizing the people into bathroom and food lines, finding them blankets and whatnot. "What's wrong?" she asked. It didn't sound like she cared much, but he was grateful for her being there at all. "She needs another seven hours," he admitted. Her eyes flickered involuntarily to Martha, who came practically bouncing over. "The console's so new and shiny!" she commented, barely glancing at Rose. "So, to Cardiff?"

"Actually," he said, dragging out the word, "no. Because the TARDIS needs to recharge for about seven hours."  
"Oh, that's fine then. I can stay here, right?"  
He could feel Rose's eyes boring into the back of his head as he tugged on one ear. He wanted to say 'no'. He couldn't, though, it wasn't fair. "Sure," he said finally, clearing his throat. "You know the drill."

"Sure do," she agreed. Donna, who he suddenly noticed had been watching from the kitchen, arms crossed, called out. "Martha, will you help me with the chicken, please?" She held his gaze for another moment before following Donna into the kitchen, leaving him and Rose.

He met her gaze, which was suddenly unreadable, and then she turned and walked away without saying a word.

Dinner was pretty quiet, everyone but Jackie, Mickey and Martha seeming very subdued. The two couples talked quietly, feeling off-balance. The Doctor was confused to no end. Why was everyone feeling or acting so weird? It was just one more person. Just Martha. After about fifteen minutes, Rose got up and brought her plate to the diswasher. "I'm really not that hungry," she announced softly. "I'm going to bed." There was a chorus of "Goodnight's", the cheeriest from Martha, and then she disappeared. The Doctor stared down at his plate. Donna elbowed him in the ribs.

"What?" he whispered. She stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. "Go _after_ her!" she whispered back urgently. He tried to make sense of the situation and failed. "Why?" She rolled her hazel eyes at him. "Are you kidding? She's not going to bed, she just can't deal with… just _go_," she reworded, looking about ready to shove him. He cleared his throat and stood, placing his dish in the dishwasher beside Rose's. "I'm going to see if I can speed up the recharging process," he announced. Everyone nodded except Jackie, who glared at him. He was surprised she didn't growl. He stared back evenly before leaving, grateful that the TARDIS had little loopholes like being able to pretty quickly bring him to Rose's room, inventing a shortcut. He knocked on the door, his stomach clenching. But why was he so nervous?

"I'm fine, mum," she said, muffled from the other side of the door. That was weird. The door shouldn't have muffled anything at all. "It's not your mum," he replied, lowering his hand. There was a long silence before he heard the rustle of bedclothes as she stood and the soft pad of her feet on the hardwood floor. "Doctor?" she asked softly, now at the door. "Yes," he practically whispered. "Can I come in?"

"No." But she didn't move.  
"Why not?"  
"You just… can't. I need to be alone right now, okay?"  
"I just want to say goodnight."  
"Well, goodnight."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, Rose," he murmured, closing his eyes. "Is this about Martha?" He heard her footsteps retreating to the bed, then the soft thump of her collapse onto it. He waited a moment before opening the door.  
She was lying facedown on her bed, face buried in a pillow, legs hanging off the side nearest to him. He closed the door behind him and walked around to where her head was, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. Neither said anything, and for a moment neither moved. Then he reached out and laid a hand between her shoulders. She shrugged as if trying to dislodge him and he pulled his hand back. "Leave me alone," she said, her voice muffled in the pillow.  
"No," he retorted, silently taking off his shoes. "I'm not going anywhere."  
"I _said_ goodnight."  
"I haven't spoken to you all day," he continued, ignoring her.  
"I know. You've been too busy talking to _her_."  
"Martha?"

She fell silent. "I'm sorry, Rose. I know she's a bit… overbearing.'  
"She was _all over you_!" she corrected, her voice breaking.  
"I _know_."  
"And you didn't do anythin' about it!"  
"She's my friend," he replied patiently. "I didn't want to hurt her."  
"Yeah, well, you were hurtin' me plenty."  
"I'm sorry, I am. Honest, Rose, I had no idea."  
She fell silent and he watched her breathe for a few minutes, feeling hopeless. Of course just when he and Rose were just starting to do relatively well, Martha would show up. And of course Rose being there wouldn't stop Martha from being, well, Martha.  
"Don't leave," she murmured, so softly he could barely hear it.  
"I won't," he promised, and this time she didn't shrug his hand away. He traced circles on her back, somewhat absently, thinking of how (maybe brutishly at times) Donna had been guiding him to Rose all this time. She rolled over and his hand froze as she gazed at him, her eyes showing that she wasn't sure how to feel.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips, and all the while she lay indifferent. "I want to make it up to you," he murmured, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. She stared at him for a moment. "How?"  
"I dunno."  
"You know what you _could_ do that would be just lovely?"  
"Anything, m'lady," he smiled with a small bow.  
"You could run a bath. And try to have a semi-normal conversation with my mum."  
He groaned. "Rose, _anything_ but that. I'll run a bath, but I'm not convinced I'd come out of that situation alive."  
"Just talk to her."  
"I don't want to," he fake-whined. She slapped his arm playfully.  
"But you _do_ want to make it up to me. So go on."

He did. He ran a bath, told her when it was ready, and stood outside the bathroom door for a few minutes, trying his hardest not to imagine her clothes falling to the floor and her climbing into the steaming tub, convincing nobody, including himself, that he was wasting time he'd have to spend with Jackie.

He found her in the library, sipping at a mug of tea. Luckily for him he'd avoided Martha during his walk. "Hello," he greeted her, taking a seat across from her. He didn't tell her that she was in his armchair. She peered at him over the steam coming out of her mug, tucking her legs closer. "What now?"  
"Nothing. It's just, Rose is in the bath, and I was bored."  
"Well, go be bored somewhere else."  
"Can you please try not to hate me? Just for… for Rose's sake?" She continued reading the cheesy romance she was holding, ignoring him.

"I want her to know that at least I tried."  
"Why would she care?"  
"I… I dunno. She does though."  
"You know, it's because she loves you."  
He swallowed. This was supposed to be just talking. She continued, her eyes still on the page. "And she wants me to like you. You gettin' this?"  
"Mmm."  
"And I would probably like you if you hadn't been the alien that appeared one day and took my daughter out from under my nose."  
"That's… good to know, I suppose." She stared up at him.  
"Aren't you sorry?"  
He considered that carefully before replying, "Actually, no. Rose was- _is-_ the best thing that has ever happened to me. I _am_ sorry that you had to go through that. I am. But I… I don't know where I'd be without Rose. And I love her. And I'm not sorry for that."

She considered him for a moment, then said, "Well, I'm glad we had that little chat. Now can you go be bored somewhere else?"

He made his way back to Rose's room. It was just his luck that he literally ran into a certain someone on the way there. "Martha!" he gasped. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, though she obviously wasn't. He wondered if she'd run into him on purpose. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you." Oh no. "…yeah?"  
"Well, you remember you told me that the TARDIS is supposed to be teamed by six?"  
Oh, no. No no no. "…yeah?"  
"Well, once Jackie and Mickey are gone, it'll just be four of you. Unless I stayed, then there'd be five."  
Oh dear God no. "Martha, look…" he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He knew he wasn't being fair, but he couldn't risk Martha getting in the way of… of him and Rose. He couldn't risk _anything_ getting in the way of that. "The only person on this ship that knows how to pilot the TARDIS is me."  
"But you could teach me." Yes, he thought, technically, I could.  
"Yes. Except it would take probably twenty years. At least."  
"Ah, I doubt that. You are brilliant, after all."  
And you, clearly, are not.  
"Besides, you taught Donna, didn't you?"  
Yes. And Rose can do a few things, too. And Jack. But not you.  
"That was in an emergency."  
"I got fired from the hospital. That's an emergency, isn't it?"  
"Martha…"  
"I work for Torchwood, but the only thing I really want to do…"  
"Maaartha…."  
"Is be with you."  
"Martha." She gazed at him, all innocence.  
"You remember… you remember why you left?"  
Her eyes clouded over. "Yes. Why?"  
"That's not gonna change."  
She blinked.  
"I'm sorry, it's just…"

And then she kissed him. He stumbled away from her, the back of his hand over his lips. And he wanted to scream. That had been so, _so _dreadfully wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. "Martha! Please, would you let me talk?"

"Sure. Go ahead."  
"Good Lord." He paused, staring at her, trying to decide the best way to tell her what he needed to say. "Look, you being here is only gonna make you miserable," he began, swallowing. "No, it's not," she replied evenly. "I love it here."  
"Be_cause…_" Say it. Say it, you coward, just say it! She waited. He breathed. And then from behind him, there were the soft pad of bare feet, and the smell of shampoo and soap. His heart rate increased. Martha's face fell. He didn't turn his head. If it was Jackie, oh he was _so_ dead. Because the hallway was too long, anyone this close would've had to have seen Martha's kiss. In fact, if it was anyone, he was dead. Anyone but Donna. And maybe Jack.

Soft lips brushed his cheek and his hearts dropped right down into his stomach as he turned to see Rose on her tiptoes, staring at him. There was no anger in her eyes. Nothing bad. But how was that possible? There was a few seconds of intensity where he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers, and then she returned to being flat-footed, and looked over at Martha.

Oh God.  
Oh God.  
"Because he's in love with me," she finished softly, taking his hand. He stroked her thumb with his, unable to move or speak otherwise. Martha looked stricken, but not entirely shocked. Rose removed her hand and walked away, down the corridor. He stared at Martha. She stared at him. And then, he too, turned and walked away.


	14. Chapter 14

||reviews make me write a lot faster, just so you know… ;DD||

He was a bit behind Rose, as if the TARDIS had hidden her room. He worked against that and got there late enough that he didn't even catch the door closing. He paused to loosen his tie and run a hand through his hair, feeling unreasonably nervous. Paranoid, almost. Rose was a good actress. It was all too possible that she was very, very angry with him. And yet, when he opened the door, he couldn't think even for a moment of anything but her. Rose.

She stood with her back to him, facing a full-length mirror that was new, a creation of her mind. And she wore something that he had no name for, something kind of smoky-black and very, very, _very_ sheer. He could see the smooth, ebony sheen of skin inbetween strips of fabric and knew he was seeing her lower back. He could barely stop himself from salivating. He wondered briefly if she had done all that on purpose, then shook the thought away. Stupid was one word he would _never _use to describe Rose Tyler. He knew, also, that she could see him in the mirror, but she didn't seem to have noticed.

He approached her silently, waiting for her to turn around and give him one of those famous Tyler slaps. Nothing happened. And before he knew it, his feet and pretty much the rest of his body were totally out of his control. He wrapped his arms around her waist, brushing the fabric and the softness of her skin only barely, pressing his lips to the back of her neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes closed. "It wasn't your fault," she replied. He could find no traces of anger in her voice. "I saw what happened. You were trying to talk to her, and…"  
"Don't remind me," he moaned into her hair. She smelled so, so good. His mind couldn't stay on one topic even if he tried. And her hair was very soft. What a woman, he thought to himself in a moment of lucidity, to make me lose my mind like this!

He felt her settled against his chest, bringing her arms up to hang casually over his shoulders, and opened his eyes just in time to close them again as she kissed him gently, setting every cell in his body afire. Her lips were warm and tasted faintly of vanilla, or something like it. And he wanted more. His mind had been reduced to a pile of mush that was sending him very primitive thoughts, such as, More. Rose. More of this, forever this. He had the feeling that if he even tried to speak, he'd be totally incoherent. It was a strange feeling, but most of him really, really did not care. Not at the time, and not ever, preferring instead to concentrate on the beautiful girl leaning against him, soft lips pressed to his. He kissed her back, wanting to hold the moment forever, at least until she happened to part her lips and their tongues met. The slow burning fire she'd initiated turned to sparks, electricity, everything alive and everything narrowed down to just them, then, in that moment.

She spun to face him, to kiss him better, and he had to suppress a moan as she pressed herself to him. He anticipated what came next, even in his foggy state, as she jumped and he caught her around the waist so she was straddling him, only his arms and hers encircling his neck keeping her from falling. _Don't worry. I'll never let you fall._ He began to move, willing the TARDIS to keep the bed in the direction he was moving. He didn't want to drop her on the floor, after all. His shins knocked up against the wood of her bed and he leaned over, letting go as she fell to hold himself above her as they continued kissing. He felt one of her hands go to the back of his neck, the other cupping his cheek, and once again, he wanted that space of time, those seconds or minutes or hours or years that they lay like that, just kissing, to last for all of time.

So of course that was when the door opened. He realized that they both had ignored a knock, so when Donna appeared in the doorway to catch them in what could only be described as a compromising situation, he wasn't surprised she couldn't help but laugh. "Ha! Oh, I had _no_ idea, I was just coming to see if you had anything that needed washing…" he was afraid he was glaring at her. She giggled and started closing the door. "Sorry! Sorry, sorry… sorry…" the last was muffled because the door was finally closed. The Doctor resisted the urge to call after her and tell her to stop spying for Jack.

Until, of course, he felt her lips on his ear. That was a strange sensation and he had no idea that someone kissing his ear could possibly make him feel that… predatory. He was way far gone and they hadn't even done anything yet. He tilted his head and his lips met with her throat. He trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone, and then, _almost_ without meaning to, slipping his hands beneath the infuriatingly sheer fabric to the semi-mysteries below it.

Apparently, Jack had been deeply dissatisfied with Donna's snooping and what she had uncovered. He had decided because of this to snoop himself. And just as the Doctor had slipped his hands beneath the top, the door opened again and Jack was standing there. "Aha!" he crowed, "I _so_ knew she was lying!" Rose stared at the Doctor and he stared back at her, both of them panting slightly. Then, he turned his head to look at Jack. He knew he was glaring and he didn't care anymore. "No, don't mind me," Jack insisted, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, "I'm taking notes."

"This is not a spectator sport!" the Doctor burst out, leaping from the bed and slamming the door in his friend's face. He was angry, but he was also slightly amused. And impressed. However he was more angry. How was this going to progress at all if people kept on interrupting? He locked the door and turned back to the bed.

Rose had moved and was sitting cross-legged on the bed, further from where she had origionally been sitting. She was gazing at him, her lips just faintly puffy, as if she was contemplating something. As if there was something written on his forehead that was puzzling her. He stayed where he was, watching her watch him. Finally, she said, "Maybe now's not the best time for this," and his hearts sank right down to his feet. He swallowed. "Yeah?" She nodded, biting her lip in thought. "I dunno. I'd rather do this… alone." A seductive tone had crept into her voice as she spoke, and by the time she finished her sentence she was smiling at him. He wasn't sure if she was serious or not. He tilted his head, searcing for the right answer. Maybe it, too, was written on his forehead. "Me too," he agreed softly, opting for some good ol' say what she wants to hear. He didn't really want to wait. If it was what Rose wanted, he _would_ wait. But he wanted her so badly that his bones were aching with it. If she gave him the chance, he'd… were they even talking about the same thing?

She patted the mattress and he obliged, sliding onto the bed. He hadn't even realized that he'd kicked his converses off, but there he was, sitting shoeless on her bed. She reached over and slid his suit jacket off, hanging it on the side of the headboard. "That doesn't mean you can't stay," she assured, reaching over to undo his tie. Her fingers were light and quick on his throat and he had to sit as still as he could to keep from jumping her bones. "What's wrong?" she asked, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Nothing," he answered, probably too quickly. "Nothing could ever feel wrong about this." She smiled and nodded, and he reached to unbutton his dress shirt, folding it and slipping it beneath the bed beside his now-discarded tie. "You're so _neat_," she giggled, sticking out her tongue. "Is that bad?"  
"No, just very… _you_."  
"Is _that_ bad?"  
"Would I be here if it was?"

"I'm going to get sweatpants," he replied, reaching beneath the bed to retrieve his clothes. She giggled again and leaned against the headboard, hands behind her head. He couldn't help but think how sexy that looked. With one last glance at her, he opened the door.

The second he was in the hallway, he was completely bombarded. Jack prodded him in the side and asked him why he was outside, and could he please tell him exactly.. he ignored that and went on to Donna, who was prodding Jack and insisting she hadn't been lying. And then there was Martha, who was asking him if Rose had been telling the truth, and why had he just come from _her_ room? And then of course Jackie approached, and they all fell silent. Except Martha. "Why did you come out of Rose's room?" she asked, arms crossed.

And that was when he knew how he was going to die. Donna scattered back to her room, Jack in tow. And he wanted to go with them, if only for the sake of hiding. Instead, he tugged on one of his ears, silently begging Martha to be quiet for just two seconds. He knew how bad his situation looked, coming waltzing out of Rose's room wearing just his suit pants and his undershirt. Oh, he knew. But the truth was, they had done very little less than Jackie probably expected, glaring at him, coming toward him walking so fast he wondered if the TARDIS was actually helping her.

"Yes," she practically hissed, "Why _were_ you coming out of Rose's room?"  
"I was saying goodnight," he said, trying to look innocent, widening his brown eyes and looking around as if confused as to what the fuss was about. Every time he blinked he could see Rose lying in that bed, hands behind her head… STOP IT, he commanded himself for the thousandth time in the past twenty-four hours. STOP. IT. ROSE TYLER IS YOUR FRIEND.

"Like _hell_ you was saying goodnight," Jackie retaliated, stepping closer. "I'm gonna ask you one more time: _Why were you in Rose's room?_"  
"I was _saying goodnight,_ Jackie."  
"Dressed like that?" she gestured and he realized how scantily clad he was. And then he remembered how scantily clad Rose was, and he knew that if Jackie opened the door to find Rose like that, they were both completely busted. He had to warn her somehow.  
"_Jackieeee,_" he whined, hoping it was loud enough to warn the girl on the other side of the door, "I was on my way to the _bathroom_ after I said goodnight. It's my ship, can't I have a little priva…" he trailed off as he heard laughter from down the hall. Jack was in Donna's doorway, practically howling . "That's a good one! I've never heard that one before, the _bathroom_…" He watched as Donna's arm reached out to slap him and drag him back into the room, slamming the door. For the first time, the disgruntled time-lord hoped Donna kept Jack as busy as possible. Jackie was inches from him, her hands on her hips. "You _wouldn't_," she snarled. He tried to keep from running in the other direction, staring down at her in what he hoped was a condescending manner. "No, Jackie. I wouldn't." There was a muffled voice as if from on the other side of a door. "You mean you _couldn't_! Mmmfph!!"

He assumed it was Jack. "No," he bellowed back, trying to keep calm, "I _couldn't_, because I am a very respectable man who would never take advantage of…" there was creak as the door behind him opened. Rose appeared and he was shocked to see that she was in pajamas- light blue, long pants, nice tee shirt, nothing provocative about it. Well, not really, but she was Rose, so of course he wanted to snog her. But looking at it from another person's point of view, well, she looked like she'd just been woken up. And she wasn't too happy about it. She squinted at him and he saw a glimmer of amusement in those doe-brown eyes before she squinted at her mother, and at Martha, who had fallen silent and stood there with her mouth open. "What's goin' on?" she mumbled, rubbing her eye. "I can't go t' sleep with all of ya yapping outside my door."

"What?" He almost grinned at Jackie's reaction. Almost.  
"See? I told you I was saying goodnight."  
"Rose, what happened?"  
"I was reading, gettin' ready to go to sleep, an' the Doctor came in to say goodnight. He was on his way to the bathroom or somethin'. And then I fell asleep, or tried to. Why?"  
He was struck once again by how absoloutely brilliant she was as he stared at her. Jackie cleared her throat. "Nothing. I'm going to bed. Behave yourselves, you two," she managed to add before disappearing in her room. He turned to smile at Rose, who just winked and retrated into her room.

"What." He had forgotten Martha was there.  
"Was that?"

He grinned. "That was nothing. Don't worry about it."  
"Was she telling the truth?"  
"When? Because just now, well, I mean, you have to define truth before I can answer that…"  
"When she said you were in love with her."  
"Oh. Well, of course."

There was a moment of complete and utter silence. She looked as if shy might cry. He felt bad for making her so upset.

"ButMartha…." He ran his words together, feeling rather desperate, "how could you have not known? I mean, you spent about a year with me, and…"  
"And you were constantly comparing me to her, I know. I noticed that."

He was dumbstruck. Comparing? He hadn't been comparing… now wait a minute, maybe he kind of _had_ been comparing them. He hadn't meant to. He had been a mess right after Rose left, and Martha shared some key qualities with Rose. They were compassionate, stubborn… so, yes. He had been comparing. And no, it hadn't been fair. And yes, he felt like an asshole.

Tears glittered in her eyes.  
"Martha, hold on, I didn't mean to…"  
"No, you know what? It's fine. I made a total fool of myself, fawning after you, hoping one day you'd realize what was going on. Or at least, looking back on it, I wish you'd noticed what you were _doing_ to me. But no more. You are a very nice man. Just not very nice to me."

She left.

He felt kind of like he was in a movie, where a love triangle had just dissolved before his eyes.

And he still felt like an asshole.

From the other side of the door, he heard Rose whisper, "Good for her," and he didn't even look back before returning to his room, falling on his back on the bed, hoping that he could fall right through the mattress into oblivion, where he would never have to deal with human women ever ever again.

He could hardly believe how horrible he must have been to his former companion all that time. He could hardly believe that she had stayed that long. There were a series of soft knocks on his door and Rose's voice wafted through the air. "Doctor? Are you alright?" He squeezed his eyes shut tighter.  
"Go 'way."  
"I just wanted to say goodnight."  
"Well, goodnight." The situation from before had been eerily reversed.  
"Is this about Martha?" He ignored her, placing his palms over his eyes. She tried the lock. "Please unlock the door."  
"No."  
"You're being a git."  
"I _am_ a git."  
"That's not fair."  
"I wasn't fair to Martha."

He heard her sigh and slide down the door to sit on the ground.  
"I'm not leavin'."  
"Go to bed, Rose."  
"No."  
"You're being stubborn, and if your mum comes out…"  
"I don't _care_ what my mum says!" she burst out, banging her head back on the door. He hoped it was by accident. "I don't care what _anybody_ says about _anything_ anymore! I just… I just want… Oh, I dunno. Nevermind."

There was a silence that could have lasted forever, and he opened his eyes. Neither said a word for a few minutes. Finally, he asked softly, "Rose?"

There was no answer.  
"Rose, are you still there?"  
After a pause, she replied, "No."

He sucked in a deep breath. "Look," he continued, "I'm sorry."  
"Open the door, then."  
"I can't."  
"Why not?"  
"Did you not hear Martha? How unfair I was to her? How can I enjoy this right now, you and me, if I know what I did to her?"  
She was silent.  
"I am sorry. Go to bed." She didn't move. "You're making me feel bad," he urged.  
"Good," she retorted. He could just imagine her, arms crossed, sitting on the floor outside his door. Stubborn, crazy woman. And yet, he loved her.

"I'm not opening the door," he assured.  
"And I'm not leavin'."  
"Something's gotta give, and it's not gonna be me."  
"Can it be the door, then?"

He contemplated that for a heartbeat. All he really wanted right then was Rose in his arms. And sleep. He could escape his guilt by going to sleep, Rose at his side. But that was so _wrong_! The fact that he cared about Rose like that was the whole reason he felt guilty, so being an even worse person to Martha made him feel better? He wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it. He wished Rose would understand.

Despite all of that, he rose to his feet, slipped into a pair of sweatpants, tugged off his undershirt, and unlocked the door. He didn't open it, so technically he hadn't opened the door. Rose opened the door. Not him.

She crawled into bed beside him and snuggled close to his back, tracing circles on his side that were comforting, if somewhat ticklish, and laid her head on his shoulder, breathing slightly on his cheek. "I'm sorry you feel bad," she murmured.  
"I am a horrible person," he replied.  
"You aren't."  
"Yes, I am. But that's alright. I'm used to it. That's the only reason I survived the Time War anyway."  
"I don't believe you."  
"Shhh."

She was quiet for only a few moments.  
"I'm glad she finally let go. It was for the best."  
"She wouldn't have been so upset if I had just…"  
"Just _what_? What could you have done?"  
"Not compared her."  
"You didn't mean to."  
"I still _did_, though."  
"God knows it's not easy to let go of you," she whispered, and he wondered if she was getting ready to cry. He closed his eyes again, wondering why it was that he couldn't do anything right, not ever.  
"I wish you hadn't had to," he replied, so softly he wondered if she heard him. Her hand stopped and lay flat on his right side as she sighed. "I can't wait 'til it's just us," she mumbled into his ear, and he had to smile. "Yeah. Me neither, though Jack and Donna…"  
"Will be just as preoccupied."  
"Jack is a git."  
She giggled and his smile grew- he loved her laugh, always had.  
"He is! He said he was _taking notes_, can you believe that?" Through her laughter, she replied, "Actually, yeah. This is Jack we're talking about, right? An' I bet he could learn a lot from you."  
"You think? Are you saying he's probably a lousy kisser, or…?"  
"I wouldn't know. But I really don't think anyone can kiss like you." He felt stupid in love with her, the way she could make him feel with just a few words. And he loved the fact that he loved her that way. It had been too long since he had let someone this deep into his life. He twisted his head around to kiss her nose before settling back on his side.  
"Besides which, he really wasn't helping with your mum…"  
"Ha. Sure he was! She knows you can't trust Jack."  
"Really. He was being so helpful."  
"Oh, be quiet. She thought we were doing unclean things."  
"Which we were."  
"That is besides the point."  
"Really? I thought that _was_ the point." She slapped his ribs and he flinched, though it had been more of a tap.  
"Nobody needs to know that." He smiled into the pillow and listened as her breathing slowed, suggesting that she had finally fallen asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

||second to last chapter :D so yeah.||

"So."

The parallel earth, Bad Wolf Bay, for the second time. As far as the Doctor was concerned, it was two times too many. Jackie and Mickey stood facing the TARDIS, he and Rose facing them, and Jack and Donna hovering uncomfortably around the door. Jackie and her daughter stood, gazes matched, matching faces of determination and disapproval on their faces.

"We can visit," Rose reminded her, glancing at the Doctor, who only nodded in reply.  
"Or you could stay," Mickey suggested. "Torchwood's going to have a hell of a problem fillin' your spot, Rose." She shrugged. "I never belonged there. Never belonged here."

"With us, you mean," her mother countered. She shook her head slowly. "No, I did, once. I belonged with you once. I'll always belong with you, actually- you're my mum, for Pete's… er, God's sake. And you, Mickey."

Mickey met the Doctor's gaze and held it for just a long enough stretch of seconds for him to read what the other man was trying to tell him: take care of her. A nod to Mickey and they were both staring at their feet again.

"But I… I'm not really the same person anymore."  
"You're Rose, aren't you?" Her mum was losing her grip rapidly, and she knew it, the ancient instinctive mother's panic at losing her child glowing in her eyes.  
"Yes, but.. I'm… changed. Different. I'm the same, on the inside, but I can't… I would outlive everybody around me." Jackie shrugged.

"You were gonna outlive me anyway," she said softly.  
"And besides which," Rose continued, ignoring the last comment, "I love the Doctor. An' nothing anyone could say would make me leave him again."

He rubbed the back of his neck. Hearing her say that out loud, in any kind of public, still made him a bit uncomfortable. Not because he didn't want her to say it, but because who was he next to her? How could he deserve anything like this? Anything as good as her, after all that he'd done?

But nobody could argue with that, not even Jackie, who sniffed in defeat and fixed the Doctor with a stony glare, beneath which he saw grudging respect.

"Right. You'd better marry her good and proper, mate," she commanded, nearly shocking him back onto his heels. Donna chuckled behind him and Rose colored slightly. Mickey's eyes stayed fixed on his feet.

"Um," the Doctor replied earnestly, "Yes ma'am?"  
"And don't pull another twelve-month trick on me, you hear?"  
He nodded.

"And if you're plannin' on getting her pregnant…" Donna couldn't quite hold Jack back- he roared in laughter, and she collapsed in helpless giggles, aiming a useless kick at one of his shins. Rose turned bright red, and the Doctor looked as if he might implode at any second. "Good_bye_, mum," she cleared her throat.

Jackie hugged her close, and the Doctor could see unshed tears glittering in her eyes as she did. Rose came to Mickey and hugged him as well, but anyone could see that there was something missing. He hugged her back, but it seemed as if she was already gone, in his mind.

They retreated into the TARDIS, finding Martha sitting on her hands in the captain's chair, looking bored and perpetually hurt. When the door finally closed, Rose coughed uncomfortably and slipped into the hallway, Donna close on her heels, stifling a grin. "I can take you to Cardiff now," the Doctor offered, feeling vastly uncomfortable. Martha nodded. "Thanks."

"Uh, Doc?" Jack sounded uncharacteristically nervous, which in turn made the Doctor nervous. "What is it?"

"Can you help me over here?"

He found Jack in the huge room that was referred to as the 'closet', though in truth it held anything and everything anybody could ever want in clothes, for any planet at any point in time. "Aren't you comfortable in your usual cloth…" his sentence went unfinished as Jack stepped out from behind a mirror.

He had on a dark suit and a pale blue shirt with a gold tie, his hair slicked back.

"Is this alright?"  
"For _what_?"  
"For, uh…" Jack shrugged as if he ought to know.  
"What are you talking about?"

"For a _date_," he was finally answered.  
"A date?"

"With _Donna_?"  
"No, with you."  
"What?"  
"I was being sarcastic!"  
"Well how should I know?"  
"Usually you can interpret that kind of stuff."  
"Not the sarcasm. I'm not exactly a fashion designer of any sort," the Doctor pointed out, gesturing to his worn-down white converses. Well, they had been white at some point.

"No," a voice said to his left as Rose practically glided into the room, "but _I_ might be able to help."

She approached Jack skeptically, looking him over, walking around him in a circle almost lazily.

"These pants," she said, tugging on them, "Are far too big. They should be more snug- they hang off your bum." The Doctor stifled a laugh at Jack's reaction, a face somewhere between amusement and shock. "Really? Okay, is that…"

"The shirt works, I think. Unless you wear brown. But look, the suit doesn't really fit, either. I think it's designed to fit _him_," she glanced pointedly at the Doctor, "And you're not really his body type at all."

"Are you calling me fat?" the Doctor coughed in response, smiling into his fist.

"No, but he's very… um, slim. And you're much broader than him, especially in your shoulders, which means his suit is going to be short in the arms because it's stretching across your shoulders."

"That's not good," he said, shrugging the jacket off.

"Yes, the shirt works," she continued, tugging off the tie, "but this tie is too yellow to wear with that shirt. I like the gold idea, but darker gold will look a lot more put together."

She pulled a black suit from the extensive hanger, handed it to him, and fished out a much darker tie. "Try this," she suggested, and he did.

Even to the Doctor's untrained eye he looked much smoother, and not at all like himself. Jack looked uncomfortable as Rose nudged him toward the door.

"Go on," she urged, "Go find Donna."  
"Who told you?"  
"Are you kidding?"

When he was finally gone, they stood for a while, her staring at where Jack had just been, him watching her face, wondering what she was thinking. She met his gaze and smiled, unaware, it seemed, how he had been scruntinizing her. Then she seemed fixated on something over his shoulder.

He watched as she fetched a handsome gray suit from a bit down the long side of the closet- the room was actually unfathomably big, but it gave the illusion that it ended- like all rooms in the TARDIS and like the TARDIS itself.

"I like this," she proclaimed, holding it out to him.

He shook his head.

"I like what I wear," he protested, feeling self conscious. I don't change what I wear except when I regenerate."

There was a silence following her sigh as she hung the suit back up, and she conjured up an armchair to sit on, reminding him how easily she had always been with the TARDIS, with the uncomfortably inconstant way of life he had. She pulled her knees to her chest and stuck her tongue out at him, kicking off her shoes.

"Fine. To be honest," she grinned wickedly, "That was really just an excuse to try an' get you to take your clothes off. But if you…" she trailed off awkwardly, blushing at her knees. He smiled gently at her and said, after a brief pause, "I'd like to take you somewhere."

She didn't protest, though it was late and nobody really wanted to go anywhere- even he, the master of surviving on an hour or two of sleep a night, wasn't too keen on the idea of an adventure, but he knew that nothing would happen where he was planning to bring her.

"What about Jack and Donna?"  
"We can come back in the morning."  
"You don't think that'll be rude?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, so you actually expected them to sleep _here_ tonight?" She caught his meaning quickly and shook her head. "I guess not. Where are we going, then?"

"It's a surprise," he replied softly.

The coordinates were burning in the TARDIS, had been there forever, since the ship had existed and before. He barely had to direct the TARDIS with his mind and she heaved to life, eager, ready to do his bidding.

"Don't you have to set coordinates?" she asked him as she watched from the captain's chair, hands under her seat. "No," he replied, "she knows exactly where to go." And how could she not? She was going home, after all.

Or to what was left of it.

She stopped and Rose stood up, sensing immediately that something was different, because he was standing at the door, waiting for her. When she was at his side, he swung open the doors, leaving her breathless.

Open space stretched out in front of them, blackness, emptiness, stars' light that was millions and trillions of years old, and in front of them lay scattered chunks of ground, grass, shattered mountains. The TARDIS gave an unhappy wheeze that the Doctor quieted with a stroke of his hand.

"Where are we?" Rose asked when she could breathe again, taking his hand. "This," he whispered, pain thousands of years old aching through every vein in his body, "is Gallifrey." She squeezed his hand and leaned into his shoulder, and he knew she was looking at him, waiting.

"What's left of it, anyway. A bit like when the Earth exploded. Our first date," he smiled emptily, "and my planet exploded just like yours. Only it wasn't time that destroyed Gallifrey, it's life was cut short."

"The Daleks," Rose quoted, remembering him as he had been when she first met him- cold, detatched, angry and full of hate for the worlds he had to love all by himself. "Yes."

"Yes, the Daleks destroyed my planet, trapped my people, killed them all but me." He didn't count the Master, didn't want to think about how close he had been to having been one of two survivors. How close he had gotten to being alright before his hearts were ripped apart again. "But that's not Gallifrey, that's the Time War, and I can tell you about that… some… other time."

She nodded against him and he closed the doors.

"Is that what you wanted to show me?"  
"Part of it," he agreed, setting the co-ordinates on the time console.

When he opened the doors again, they were on the ground. There was nothing on that planet but flat plains of dust. No wind, nothing- the TARDIS had a protective bubble of oxygen around her to keep them alive, but they were the only things that had ever touched the soil of that moon.

He stepped outside and looked up, Rose not far behind him.

"Oh," she breathed.

The planet above them loomed, certainly closer than it should have been- or at least that was how she perceived it, so used to the distance between the moon and the Earth. It was enormous, took up the entire horizon and looked as if it were pushing space inward to make room for itself, bullying it's way into exsistance.

It was a deep crimson, speckled in orange- not unlike Mars, but so much more vividly colored, wild streaks of dark purple and blue across its surface, and no clouds or weather that she could discern.

"That's my home," she heard him say, and she fancied she heard his voice breaking as he declared it. "Where I was born. In fact, I'm up there now, somewhere. I'd be about fourteen."

She couldn't imagine him fourteen.

"There's no weather there, no oxygen or anything. A purely uninhabitable planet… except for us. We did it." He pointed and she came as close as she could to him, their hips touching, so she could be sure they were looking at the same spot- a paler circle, though enormous, flicked with darkness. "That's the citadel with the Time-lords, the entire race except the tiny settlements all around the planet. Above all the rest of the universe, practically, though space is impossible to think about that way, so don't even try. Ballooning, as if the planet is a ship that takes them- us- all around the universe and back again. Sworn never to interfere, simply because we have the power to do so. To watch, and learn, and understand that life is harsh enough as it is, and that no good deed…" he continued as if reciting his alphabet… "Goes unpunished. Or," he swallowed, finally glancing down at her, his eyes glassy, "That's what they told us, anyway. I never believed that. Thought it was stupid. Thought that if that was true, we might as well just destroy everything, because why are we alive? I was the only one, I think."

"There's no such thing as love, out there. They don't believe in it. Everything is too orderly, too easily explained, for something like that- improbable, unexplainable, unpredictable and immesureable- to be acknowledged. Parents are chosen by the Elders and children are loomed- genetic material is taken from each parent and 'woven' together, creating a child. It's not personal, it's not intimate, and it's not romantic."

She listened intently, fascinated by his explanation, drinking in all that she would ever know about his life before her. "You don't meet your parents. And no two people are ever paired up twice, so you don't have any siblings. But when you are sent to the Academy, as an infant, you are placed in a Family. A troupe of others your age, older, younger, more experienced, less… no adults. You grow up together, the adults watch over, but these are not parents. You rely on one another, care for one another, respect one another, and one day, they rip you apart and see if you can function on your own."

"It's a test, they pit you against simulated enemies. If you kill them all, or most of them, then you are placed in the Guard, kind of a more passive army. If you heal them, you're sent to help with Looming, since we don't get sick in as many words. And if you can't kill them and you can't heal them, you're sent to the main city, where the general population lives and works and learns and watches. I was different. I didn't kill them, not any of them, not the first time. I didn't heal them because I didn't see sickness in them. I didn't leave them, either, though… I _taught_ them. These simulations could learn, as much as machines we made can, and I taught them. The Elders said they had never seen it before."

"They tried it again, but I was angry. I wanted to go home, to my Family, but they wouldn't let me leave, so I killed each and every one of the simulations they set against me. They should have put me in the Guard, but instead they sent me to the city, for lack of a better thing to do with me. I was bitter about it, to be honest. I always wanted to be a Guardian. But when the Time War happened, I was only about twenty seven. I was still so young, and so stupid, that I thought I knew how to win the war."

"I stole the TARDIS and went with a few of my Family up into the midst of the Dalek fleet, because I thought I could destroy them, or at least talk them out of destroying us. The Daleks killed my Family one by one, including the time lady that had been the other half of my son, all in front of my eyes, and the Daleks wouldn't kill me. They refused. They needed me. It turned out that the Elders knew that I had some kind of difference about me, something beneath the surface that was dangerous and poisonous. And they had been hiding me, trying to keep me from doing something stupid- which is exactly what I did. The Elders came to save me, or tried, but I didn't want them to help, I wanted to win, I wanted to kill all the Dalek race for taking my family away. And I wiped out every Dalek on the ship."

"That's why they called me the Oncoming Storm- because I didn't even know how to control it, and I managed to kill the entire ship. The Daleks retaliated and wiped out my planet as I watched, safe, in the belly of their ship, and then they let me go. Because it was harder to live alone with the knowledge that I had killed my entire race than to die along with them, as I should have."

He swallowed, his hands deep in his pockets, and stared up at the great red planet above them, wistfully. She could scarcely imagine the kind of pain he was feeling, and she didn't care to. Instead, she twined her fingers with his and pressed their shoulders together, trying to comfort him.

"I've never told anybody all of that before," he murmured. "And I've never been back since then. I think… I think you're the only one that could stop me from going back and changing it all. I… I don't want to be alone anymore, Rose."

She felt tears prick at the back of her eyes as he gazed at her, the red planet glowing down on them. "I'm here," she whispered. "I'll always be here."


	16. Chapter 16

The kiss that followed her promise was slow and sweet and beautiful, his hand on the back of her neck, hers resting on his shoulders, his other falling possessively to her waist. The moment was perfect, intense, souls-meeting waves-crashing worlds-ending… and then the harsh sound of a throat clearing tore them apart.

Jack stood awkwardly behind them, hands at his side for loss of the usual trench coat pockets. "Uh, hi. Did you forget about Martha?" The Doctor stared at him, openmouthed, trying to comprehend what was happening.

"Jack ? How are you here?"  
The man pointed to his watch. "It's kind of a time hopper. I programmed it to take me back to the TARDIS, and it turns out that as long as she's touching me, it'll bring Donna along, too. Though she's looking a bit worse for wear," he added guiltily. "It's okay if you forgot Martha. I mean, I kind of did. For a while. You know, _some_ things are more… er… pressing…" he smirked at them and Rose gently removed the Doctor's hand from her waist, prompting the other to fall from behind her neck.  
"That's crude and unnecessary," the Doctor replied, gathering his composure.  
"But you did forget Martha," Rose pointed out, hiding a smile.

"I didn't forget her," he insisted, heading back inside, "I just figured… okay, yes, I forgot her, but what with the whole… situation… and I…" but as he looked around, it became apparent that Martha was, in fact, absent. Donna was curled up in a lush armchair, looking rather green. "Mind bein' quieter, Spaceman?" she croaked, burying herself deeper in the blanket. The Doctor shot a sympathetic glance at her before asking Jack, quietly, "Where is she?"

"She didn't think you wanted to say goodbye. I told her to stay, but she was having none of it. She's gone."

"When was this?"

"A few seconds before I went outside?"

"Give me that," the Doctor growled, snatching at Jack's watch. He took the sonic screwdriver to it and pressed a button- and then he was gone. Rose stood for a moment, looking a bit confused, and then she, too disappeared.

"That's weird," a voice said from the armchair, face hidden by the blanket, "I thought you had to be touching."

"You do," Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. "I am _so_ tired."

"I'd drink to that," she replied sleepily.

"Come on," he replied with a smile, walking to the chair and bending over her, "Let's go to bed."

"If you mean _bed,_" she retorted as he scooped her into his arms, "Then okay. What's this with the- I can walk, you know!"

"I know. But I like having you in my arms, one way or another."

"You really are lucky you're so cute, or I'd wallop you a good one..."

The Doctor staggered, suddenly on a darkened, quiet street. In front of him he saw a retreating back- black hair that he recognized, an easy, quiet gait. "Martha!"

She froze and turned to see him, and he thought he saw a shadow cross her face before she turned back around and continued walking. He called her name again, taking a step- and then there was a muffled noise from behind him as Rose materialized, looking confused. "Rose? You weren't touching me!"

"I know that! But why am I here?"

"I don't know! MARTHA JONES! WAIT JUST A MINUTE!" he bounded after her as he gait quickened, and Rose wasn't far behind, snatching at his jacket and stopping him dead in his tracks. "Let her go," she commanded, a look on her face that suggested she understood why Martha had left so suddenly.

"But she didn't say goodbye!" he whined.

Martha suddenly turned back and stood a few feet away, stony-faced.

"Goodbye, Doctor," she said evenly.

"Oh. Goodbye, then," he replied, caught off guard. He walked to stand in front of her, Rose following cautiously behind him, unsure it was a good idea to impose.

"I don't suppose I'll see you again," the other woman commented, sadness barely tinting her voice. The Doctor's voice had gone soft and guilty, the way it did when he was lying.

"Oh, I dunno. It's a small universe, after all," as he smiled unconvincingly, at least unconvincingly to anybody who had known him for any amount of time. Martha shook her head, smiling bitterly. "Not quite small enough," she replied, her voice a thin whisper. He pried off the watch, accidentally breaking the face, which rolled away from them. He made a frustrated noise and chased after it, leaving the two companions face to face, alone, for a few seconds.

It was awkward for Rose, knowing, seeing how much Martha had loved the Doctor, and knowing that what stood in the way was her. "Take good care of him," Martha said, watching as he searched in the darkness for the lost face. "I will," Rose promised, wondering if they could have been friends in another time, another world. "Ha!" his triumphant call signaled that their quiet moments were over as he returned to them, fitting the face securely back onto the watch. "Sorry about that. Um, where were we?"

"Goodbye," she reminded him as Rose let herself become background noise again, watching. "Yes. Goodbye," he said gruffly, sticking out an oddly formal hand to shake. Martha hugged him instead, arms tight around his neck, and he returned the embrace, unable to see what Rose saw- tears filling up Martha's eyes, and a smile of release on her face.

"I'll be alright," she said, almost as if realizing it for the first time.  
"Course you will," he replied, stepping back.

"It was nice," she concluded, looking surprised with herself.  
"Yes," he replied, feeling a bit out of the loop.

"Well, I'm going to… go, now. Bye."

That was it. With that, she disappeared into the night, a spring in her step that had been absent before. The Doctor turned to Rose, bewildered, eyes wide. It was almost comical; she had to fight back laughter.

"What?'  
"Human women are the most complex creatures I have ever encountered," he said dismissively, grabbing her hand with a grin. "Now- home." She smiled back, squeezing his hand. She was home. After far too long, Rose Tyler was finally home.

Barely a moment later, the street was empty, dark, and quiet.

And somewhere, if you listened closely, you could hear the soft, happy wheeze of a time-ship as it welcomed its family home.

THE END.

(ha. So yes, the doctor and rose will eventually do it… but not in this fanfic. CLIFFY. Well not really, but I'm already writing a sequel O.o regardless of whether you want one, it's COMING. 8) be on the lookout for Project Avalanche! Thanks for all the lovely reviews! Love always, ThatKid.)


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